


If the world is to be healed

by heliones



Category: The Letter for the King, The Letter for the King (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon Fix-It, Spoilers, in case that wasn't clear already
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 109,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23242045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heliones/pseuds/heliones
Summary: What if Prince Viridian wasn't really gone and his "death" unleashed a more terrible darkness upon the world?
Relationships: Jussipo/Foldo, Prince Iridian (The Letter for the King)/Queen Alianor, Tiuri/Lavinia
Comments: 100
Kudos: 113





	1. The Heart Remembers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of my monster fix-it fic, my idea of what season 2 might look like. Although this might have a general plot, this will still primary focus on Jussipo and his own ongoing struggle with the changes going on in his life, but the rest of the gang will be there too. Once again, unbeta'ed.

Jussipo hadn’t wanted to die. Honestly, he hadn’t, but even so, he didn’t regret it, not one bit. And, as far as deaths went, it wasn’t so bad. Sure, being stabbed to death wasn’t ideal per say, but it wasn’t the worst way to go. Maybe. Possibly. Jussipo wouldn’t really know really. He’s only ever died the one time.

Would it have been nice in bed of old age? Sure, but that wasn’t really in the cards for Jussipo anyway. Jussipo was always going to be a knight, and knights lead heroic lives and died bravely for King and country. Jussipo had expected the same for himself. Maybe it would have been nice for someone to write a song about him for a change, instead of writing it himself. Not that Jussipo minded writing about himself. Jussipo was the best person he knew and he was proud to write about his own great, admirable qualities that everyone was in agreement of.

Instead, Jussipo was lying, bleeding out on the floor in some secluded hallway, far from home, with little to no fame to his name. But that was alright. Jussipo didn’t mind, really. Even if it wasn’t ideal. He died protecting his friends, his loved ones, for a brave cause. He wasn’t a knight – thanks to Tiuri, and no, Jussipo hadn’t forgotten that – but it didn’t seem so important anymore.

Nothing that mattered before seemed important now as his vision flicked before his eyes. The figures standing before him, by his side grew dimmer and dimmer with each passing second and it was harder and harder for Jussipo to see them, but he wasn’t afraid. Instead, Jussipo felt at peace with himself. The stabbing pain faded to a dull roar he could hardly feel anymore until he felt nothing at all. He had died doing the right thing, and Jussipo was fine with that. He had done his duty, prevented a great terrible evil from engulfing the world, saved his parents. What more could he want really?

With that thought in mind, Jussipo closed his eyes for a final time, letting the darkness engulf him.

At least, it was supposed to. Jussipo opened his eyes and let out a loud gasp and coughed. The darkness was still all around him, like it was before, but it felt different this time. It felt like real darkness, the darkness of night instead of the darkness of death. Maybe that was because it really was the darkness of night.

He was still lying on his back, but he felt trapped, felt like there was hardly any air to breathe around him. He blinked multiple times, hoping that his eyes would eventually adjust to the dark, but they never did. He couldn’t see anything no matter how hard he blinked. He reached out above him and immediately felt a hard surface surrounding him on all sides. Jussipo felt his heart sink when he realized where he was. He was in his grave. Because he was dead.

Jussipo tried hard not to panic, because, really, what else was he supposed to do? No one had told him about this, had warned about possibly waking up in your own grave because you came back to life for undisclosed reasons. He fiercely wished that Foldo was here. Foldo and his scary stories would know something about the strange situation Jussipo was in. Or Iona. Clever and tricky Iona always knew what to do. He even would have settled for little Piak if it meant he wouldn’t have to deal with this situation on his own….And no, actually, he wouldn’t want them to be here because that would mean they were dead, too, and the last thing Jussipo wanted was for his friends to be dead after everything that happened to them…

Jussipo took a deep breath – well, as deep as one could in their own grave – and gathered all his strength to push against the walls around him. Instead of pushing himself free, he’d just managed to loosen some dirt. Jussipo coughed as it settled in the small enclosed space around him.

He tried again and again and strained as hard as he could, but nothing changed. The walls around him were as steady as they had been before his attempts to free himself.

Jussipo damned whoever dug his stupid grave. Why did they attempt to make a decent go at it? Why couldn’t they just plop him in a hole, scatter some dirt around him and be done with it? Nooooo. It had to be noble and proper. Jussipo berated himself for thinking about such a thing. A grave was better than nothing, and his friends had been there when he died. He hadn’t forgotten that. They would have made sure it was a nice spot, some place quiet and peaceful, maybe even overlooking the sea in some hill somewhere. It was a good place, Jussipo decided despite not knowing anything about where he was buried. He was sure of it.

Renewed by the thought of his friends, Jussipo continued his struggle. Man against his own grave. Surely, there was only one way this could end.

As he pounded against the hard wood – at least, it felt like it – Jussipo felt himself grow weak. It was the air, he realized. He didn’t have much air, and the more time he spent there, the more likely it was that he was going to stay there. Permanently.

But maybe, he didn’t really need air? After all, he had died. Dead people didn’t need air to breathe. But was he dead? Jussipo was unsure. He had been breathing this whole time, and his hands and legs ached after his continued struggle. It felt like he was really alive. There was no time to contemplate how or why. Jussipo just had to think of a different way out.

He settled in his grave, closed his eyes – not that it made a difference in the grand scheme of things – and tried to think of something, anything to do. He lay still and quiet, and perhaps it was because of that he could feel it now. A presence that he hadn’t felt in his struggle before. There was something there with him. He was lying in his grave and there was something in there with him.

It was one thing to be alone, trying to dig your way out, but it quite another to find something in your grave with you. Jussipo tried to keep himself from panicking. It could be a worm or a rat. Either case wasn’t particularly alluring for Jussipo, but it was better than what his mind was coming up with. It certainly didn’t feel like it was worms or rats. It was something that was all around him, closing in on him. He felt a pressure around him suddenly, squeezing him tightly. Jussipo tried to fight against it, but he was weak, growing weaker by the second and there was only so much he could fight against some invisible presence. He felt his eyes close once more, and something like sleep fall before him.

*

The next time he opened his eyes, Jussipo was somewhere else entirely. He was tired. His eyes could scarcely open and every blink took a surprisingly amount of effort on his part. It took him a while to recognize where it was, and even when he knew it was familiar, he couldn’t exactly place it. He had been to a lot of places recently, hadn’t he? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember.

Jussipo had been standing in front of a door for a very long time before he remembered that people usually knocked when they wanted to come into a place.

It too far longer than Jussipo would have liked but he finally lifted his arm and closed his fingers to make a fist. He didn’t recall such actions taking so much effort, but he was so tired now and he didn’t have the energy to worry about it.

It would have taken another ten minutes to actually knock on the door, but Jussipo was saved by someone opening the door from the inside. The person was talking to someone behind them, and so it took a moment for the other person – man? Even shapes were hard to make out now – to see him.

Their eyes widened in surprise as they took the state of him in.

“I look that great, huh? I’m the stuff of dreams, really,” Jussipo joked because it felt like something he would have said before, in his past life. Huh. Funny how it felt so different now. He wondered if that was something he should be worried about.

“Jussipo!” the man cried out before enveloping him in a warm embrace. So they recognized him, huh. That was nice. It was nice that someone knew him. Jussipo hardly knew who he was anymore.

He didn’t let that thought bother him though. Instead he focused on the man before him. He was tall and warm, and Jussipo knew that he knew him from somewhere, in his heart of hearts he knew him. He hadn’t noticed he was cold before, but now all he felt was warm, and it was really to be warm. The cold hurt and the darkness hurt, but he didn’t have to worry about that now because he was warm, and Foldo was here…and Foldo was here, and that was all that mattered. Foldo would know what to do.

“Don’t worry, Jussipo. You’re home now. Nothing can get to you. Not while you’re here. We’ll keep you safe,” the man – _Foldo_ – assured him. 

“I know, Foldo, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of the story was going to be through Foldo's point of view, but I was too impatient to write it so this is what came out.
> 
> I'll be honest and say that I have a lot on my plate at the moment so updates will be slow going. I'll try to update when I can. 
> 
> I'm open to suggestions if there's anything anyone wants to see.


	2. There's Always a Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang try to make sense of Jussipo's return. Jaro makes a deal, and Tiuri finds a surprise waiting for him at home.

The past two months had passed slowly for Foldo, slower than seemed possible. He returned home a hero, knighted with his friends for all to see. It was everything Foldo had wanted all his life. There was just one thing missing, a gaping hole in his life that Foldo couldn’t ignore despite how much he wanted to. It hurt to think about and so Foldo tried his best to think of anything else.

For a long time, Foldo thought the pain, the terrible ache in his heart, would live there forever, a part of him that would remain for the rest of his life. Foldo didn’t think that would be so terrible, and the ache was easier to bear with each passing day – not that it was ever easy though, grief often never was – but he was alive and living the life he always wanted. What more could he ask for in life?

After the events at Unauwen castle, the friends had gone their separate ways. Before doing so, Foldo had suggested the friends meet occasionally, talk about their lives, help each other when needed. Arman had scoffed, muttered something about not needing anyone else’s help, but Tiuri had looked relieved at the suggestion. The two had a heavy burden to bear, and Foldo was happy to alleviate that burden in any way he could. It took his mind off…it kept him busy, and all Foldo wanted at the moment was to be busy.

The friends had decided to meet at an inn near Arman’s estate. It was as good as a place as any and they all agreed to it. That was where Foldo found himself, half-listening to Arman complain about something. His life as the richest knight was not living to Arman’s illustrious goals. Foldo found himself nodding but tuning him out the same. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of something from the window that Foldo gave up the pretense altogether. Normally, Foldo wouldn’t pay much attention to a figure passing by, but he had a terrible feeling about it.

Foldo excused himself from the table, made his way to the door and hesitated. Deciding that he was being silly, Foldo opened the door and found himself staring at a familiar figure. His hair was disheveled, his face streaks with streaks of mud and dirt and there was a vacant look to his eyes, but Foldo would recognize that face anywhere.

Jussipo noticed Foldo staring. A weak smile graced his lips. “I look that great, huh? I’m the stuff of dreams, really,” he said in a voice that was more tired and weary than Foldo had ever heard from the other man, but he was there. Jussipo was there in the flesh and standing right in front of him.

“Jussipo!” Foldo cried out before throwing his arms around the smaller man. Jussipo stiffened in his arms before relaxing.

There were so many questions running through Foldo’s head, but none of them mattered. All that mattered was that Jussipo was there and Foldo was never letting the other man out of his sight.

“Don’t worry, Jussipo. You’re home now. Nothing can get to you. Not while you’re here. We’ll keep you safe,” Foldo promised.

“I know, Foldo, I know,” Jussipo muttered, pressing his face against Foldo’s shoulder.

The two men stayed there in each other’s arms. Foldo let himself get lost in the moment, savor it, save it and store the memory somewhere for later. He wasn’t sure how long this moment would last, and Foldo was going to appreciate every second of it.

That moment, it turned out, only lasted a few seconds before the others made their way out of the inn and joined the pair in the street.

“Foldo, are you alright? You’ve been gone a while and –“

Foldo turned back and found his friends all staring slack-jawed at him.

“Is that Jussipo?” Piak asked, reaching out to touch the figure before him as if to assure himself it was real.

“I think so,” Foldo said, reluctantly releasing the other man from his arms. There would be time for that later he promised himself.

Jussipo’s weak smile widened at the sight of the boy in front of him. “It hasn’t been that long, has it, that you’ve forgotten your one and only brother’s face? You wound me, Piak. I thought I meant more to you than that,” Jussipo said, clutching at his chest dramatically like Piak had indeed hurt him.

“No, no, no! I could never!” Piak cried out as he threw himself at Jussipo, wrapping his arms around the man so tightly in a way that Foldo knew had to hurt. “I could never forget you, Jussipo. You’re the best brother a boy could ask for.”

Jussipo chuckled as he patted Piak’s head. “Now, you’re just saying that. I recall you comparing my singing to that of a strangled cat.”

“Mum said that,” Piak corrected, “and it was a cat in a bag, not a strangled one. If you’re going to complain, Jussipo, at least get the details right.”

They both laughed at that. Jussipo ruffled Piak’s hair as he slowly tried to extricate himself from the boy’s powerful embrace. Before he could so, however, Lavinia did the job for him, pulling Piak away by the arm and pulling the young boy behind her.

“What are you both doing? Do you seriously think that it’s him? After everything we’ve seen?” Lavinia asked, flashing a suspicious look at Jussipo. The smile on Jussipo’s face fell.

“Wait, you don’t seriously think that Jussipo is some kind of imposter, do you?” Piak asked, looking between the two with a troubled look on his young face.

“Are you all stupid? Since when have the dead come back to life and started walking around like nothing’s happened? I’m telling you. It’s a trap,” Lavinia argued, her eyes still scanning Jussipo for any weapons hidden about his person.

Foldo felt his heart sink. It had to be him. It _had_ to be. It was him. Foldo was sure of it.

“Of course, it’s him. Can’t you tell just by looking at him and hearing him speak? It’s him. It’s Jussipo. I know it,” Foldo declared, taking his place by Jussipo’s side.

Jussipo flashed Foldo a grateful smile, but there was still a troubled look to his eyes that Foldo didn’t like, almost as if Jussipo was hiding something.

“If it’s Jussipo, then why is he here? How did he magically come back to life?” Lavinia turned to address Jussipo, “explain that if you can.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for everything, Lavinia. Let’s give him a chance to explain,” Tiuri cut in diplomatically.

“Go on, Jussipo. Tell her. Once you’ve explained it all, I’m sure everyone will believe you,” Foldo told him, hoping to inspire some confidence in the other man.

Jussipo turned down to look at his feet. “That’s just it, Foldo. I don’t remember what happened. One moment I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Now I’m here. That’s all I can remember,” Jussipo admitted sadly.

“You see! You see! Of course, he can’t remember because it’s not really him!” Lavinia exclaimed.

“That doesn’t mean anything. We all forget things. It just means he’s human like the rest of us,” Foldo said defensively.

“Yeah, that’s right! It’s him. I know it’s him. I’d know my brother anywhere. It’s not an imposter,” Piak told them as he valiantly attempted to get out of Lavinia’s grasp. She still had a tight hold on Piak’s wrist, clutching him tightly to her side.

“Lavinia’s right. We can’t just welcome him back into our lives without an explanation. Something’s off here and until we have an explanation, I say we keep him at arm’s length,” Arman said, looking at Jussipo like he was a threat, taking a place by Lavinia’s side.

Foldo gripped Jussipo’s elbow, ready to pull him aside in case the situation escalated. Foldo wasn’t going to let anything happen to Jussipo, not while Foldo still lived and breathed. He had lost him once and he wouldn’t do it again.

They all erupted into shouting, each trying to get their voice heard over one another. The commotion drew the attention from passers-by, but when it became clear the argument wasn’t going anywhere interesting, they all returned to ignoring the group. It wasn’t until Tiuri stood between them, shouting at them to stop that the group settled down. 

“It’s clear that we’re not going to agree on this. How about we come to some sort of compromise – something we can all agree to and be happy with,” Tiuri suggested.

“Like what?” Arman asked, looking at Tiuri expectantly. They all turned to do the same.

Tiuri muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth until an answer presented himself. “A test,” he suggested, “Jussipo can tell us something only the real Jussipo would know. That way we know it’s real – the real Jussipo. After that, there’ll be no more arguing. Agreed?”

They all nodded their assent begrudgingly.

“The real question is what to ask him?” Arman asked the group.

“I can ask him. I’m his brother. I know him best,” Piak piped up, still trying to pull his wrist away from Lavinia. Lavinia glared at him and that was enough for him to give up on the struggle entirely.

“Well?” Tiuri asked, “can we agree to that at least? Piak asks the question.” Tiuri turned to Piak. “Go on, then. Ask him your question.”

Piak pulled away from Lavinia one final time, finally freeing himself from her grasp and jumping over to Jussipo’s side.

“What to ask. What to ask,” Piak wondered aloud.

“I could sing a song,” Jussipo suggested, his eyes glowing at the thought of it. “Yes! That’s what I’ll do. I’ll sing a song and prove to you that it’s really me. But what song to sing? There’s so many. There’s _Jussipo the King_ , _Jussipo on his Greatest Quest_ , _Piak Snores Very Loudly in the Morning_ -“

Arman groaned loudly. “You see what’s you’ve done, Tiuri? You’ve gone and got him started with the singing again. It’s hard to shut him up when he starts,” Arman complained.

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Tiuri exclaimed.

“Yes, you did. This was your idea!” Arman argued, pointing a finger at Tiuri’s chest accusingly.

“I don’t snore. It was only that one time,” Piak told them, turning to face his brother.

Jussipo scoffed. “One time? Would I have written a song about it if it was just one time? It’s every night! Ask Mum. She’ll tell you!” Jussipo told him.

They all descended into another round of arguing with Lavinia piping in that no, it wasn’t Tiuri’s fault that anyone would start to sing, Arman. She would very much appreciate it if he didn’t throw random accusations into the wind. It’s not as if Tiuri has been accused of terrible deeds recently, and really, how Arman not be sensitive to that?

Foldo found himself tuning them all out again, staring at Jussipo with a fond smile on his face. It was him. It was really him. Foldo was sure of it.

“It’s him,” Foldo said softly, so quietly that no one heard him at first. “it’s him,” he said a second time, and this time they all heard him.

Jussipo grinned up at him. “Of course, it’s me. Who else could it be?” he asked them with a confidence he hadn’t possessed before.

Before anyone could say anything, Foldo pulled the other man close, leaning his forehead against his, not caring what everyone else thought. Jussipo relaxed, bringing up his hand to slowly rest on Foldo’s arm, giving it a light squeeze.

“Can we focus here?” Lavinia’s voice cut in. “You can kiss him all you want later, but right now we need to figure out how-“

“Wait, what?” Three voices called out at once.

“What?” Lavinia asked. “You didn’t know? I thought it was obvious. That’s not really the point though-“

“You told Lavinia about you and Foldo, but you didn’t tell me?” Piak asked, pushing in between the two of them. “Is it because I’m ten? I’m almost eleven, you know! You can’t treat me like a child forever. I’m a knight now, Jussipo, so I think that entitles me to all the secrets you have. Out with it. I want to hear all your secrets, starting with when did,” Piak gestured between the two of them, “this all happen?”

“Did you know about this? I didn’t know about this.” Foldo could hear Arman ask.

“No, I didn’t know either,” Tiuri admitted.

“Well, of course you didn’t. It’s not as they must tell you everything. You go and deliver one letter and suddenly you think you’re entitled to know everything, Tiuri,” Arman said bitterly at the thought of being left out.

“What? I didn’t say that. You know I didn’t. Stop saying that I did,” Tiuri told him in response.

“I’m starting to see why it took all of you so long to deliver just one letter if you start arguing over everything all the time,” Lavinia grumbled mostly to herself at this point.

As much as Foldo wanted to stay in the moment, the others were making it difficult to do so. Foldo would find time later. He pulled himself out of the half-embrace he and Jussipo were in and turned to the others.

“Lavinia’s right. If we’re all in agreement that Jussipo is who he says he is, then perhaps we should turn our attention as to why he’s here,” Foldo told them, trying to reign in the others to focus on the task at hand.

“I’m not entirely convinced it’s him to be honest,” Lavinia admitted with a hard glint in her eye. Casting an eye at the group, seeing the looks at their faces, her eyes softened. “But I do have to admit that I didn’t know Jussipo as well as the rest of you. If you say that it’s him then I’ll believe it.”

They all turned to Arman, looking to hear what he had to say. Arman coughed, his arms crossed over his chest. “I-I,” he started, his hard face softening as well, “I want to believe that it’s him as well. He was – is my friend too. I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. We’ve all been through a lot together. The last thing I want is for some imposter to kill us in our sleep.” He turned to look at Jussipo in the eye then. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Jussipo smiled that easy smile of his. “Of course, I forgive you. I don’t blame you for being cautious. If the situation were reversed, I would be skeptical too. Unless it were about Piak or Foldo, of course. I’d want them back in any shape or form,” Jussipo said.

Piak rolled his eyes. “Is everything you say going to be overly sentimental from now on? You were already insufferable before with this singing,” Piak complained.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Jussipo retorted.

“Enough with the jokes,” Lavinia cut in. She turned her attention to Jussipo. “Can you really not remember anything about how you came back and why you came here of all places?” Lavinia asked, casting an eye to their surroundings.

“Yeah, how did you know where to find us?” Arman asked.

Jussipo frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. “I told you. I don’t remember. Is this something we must discuss now? I’m rather tired and we’ve been standing out in the street far longer than I would have liked,” Jussipo said with a shiver. The weariness from before crept back into his face. Foldo noticed the large bags under his eyes and wondered, not for the first time, what Jussipo had to do to make it to where they were.

“Yes, it has to be now before you forget-“Lavinia insisted.

“Lavinia,” Tiuri said in warning, giving her a stern look.

Lavinia groaned. “Fine. Rest if you must. But once you’ve rested, you’re telling us everything you can remember. We’re going to find out what happened to you before the night is over. You mark my words,” Lavinia said in a huff before rushing back into the inn.

Tiuri stared at her retreating figure with a sigh. “She’s great, isn’t she?”

“She’s…something, alright,” Arman said in agreement.

They all laughed as they made their way back into the inn. Foldo and Piak flanked Jussipo from both sides, neither wanting to let the man out of their sight.

They returned to the table they’d sat in before. The gruel they’d ordered before had long since grown cold. Lavinia had gone up to the barkeep to order a warm bowl, which she placed in front of Jussipo, who looked at the bowl like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever seen. Foldo tried to push the worry away and focused on Jussipo being safe and sound. 

The others started discussing different theories as to why Jussipo was back. This time Foldo only half-listened to what they said, staring at Jussipo the entire time he ate. Jussipo noticed, of course, and would smile up at him every time before returning to the gruel.

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything? Not even how you knew how to find us?” Lavinia asked for a third time.

Jussipo shook his head. “Nothing. I remember nothing. Is it really that important to know? Can’t we just accept it for what it is and leave it at that?” Jussipo asked, looking despondently at his hands, which were filthy and covered in dirt.

The group all exchanged worried looks. It was Arman, out of everyone, who spoke up. “Listen, Jussipo, we all care about you. We can tell you’re tired, but we wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t have to. We must know how you got back and why. The dead don’t come back to life for no reason. There’s always a price to pay. What if that price is killing everyone you love? We have to know why…otherwise, how will we keep you safe and alive?” Arman asked softly.

“I know,” Jussipo said softly, who was still examining hands as if they held the answers he sought.

“How about we all go home? I’ll ask my mother about this. My father – my real father was an Eviellan shaman. She might have learned about something like this happening before from him,” Tiuri suggested.

“I could look at my father’s books at home. There’s bound to be something useful in there,” Arman told them.

“And we’ll go home and see mum. She’ll be so happy to see you, Jussipo,” Piak told them, tugging at his sleeve excitedly. The thought brought a weak smile to Jussipo’s face, but it wasn’t enough to wipe away the weariness that seem to weigh on Jussipo. Foldo could only hope that food and sleep would improve Jussipo’s condition.

“So, it’s settled then. We’re all going home and we’ll meet up again in…say a week’s time? That should be enough for us to discover some information,” Tiuri decided.

Arman was the first to leave with Tiuri and Lavinia leaving shortly afterwards. Foldo waited until they’d gone to help Jussipo from his seat. The other man seemed to grow more tired by the second.

“How about I help the two of you head home?” Foldo offered.

Piak opened his mouth to say something but closed it upon seeing the look on Foldo’s face. “That sounds good, doesn’t it, Jussipo?” Piak asked.

“That sounds great, actually. I wasn’t sure I’d make it home all by myself,” Jussipo admitted with a wry smile.

“Besides, you’ll probably want to spend all this time talking to _Foldo_ ,” Piak teased.

Jussipo let out a heavy sigh. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“I’m just saying you should have told me. Brothers tell each other things,” Piak said in reply.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in between the time it happened and dying. There. Are you happy now?” Jussipo retorted.

“You’re both aware that I am standing right here? Listening to everything you’re both saying, right?” Foldo added in.

“We know,” they both said at once before going back to their discussion about brotherly bonds and how secrets are terrible things that people who love each other shouldn’t keep.

Foldo listening to them quietly all the way they made their way home. Jussipo was there, walking home with them. Foldo could scarcely believe it. He just hoped it would stay that way. It had to. Foldo was going to make sure that it would.

*

Jaro was a Red Rider once, and the Red Riders had been one of the most feared bands of knights and brigands to ever roam the lands. But that was when Prince Viridian still lived, and the Eviellan War was still a looming threat over everyone’s shoulders. With Prince Viridian gone, there was no more need for the Red Riders, and just like that, Jaro’s future was gone in a puff of smoke, quite literally.

And then there was the girl. Jaro hadn’t expected that when he set out for the letter. Had never expected to continue his aimless wandering with a girl in tow, and a young girl at that, young enough that enough people had mistaken her for his daughter. She wasn’t. Jaro wished there was some way to communicate that silently and instantly to everyone who came across them, but that wasn’t the case.

It was the girl that was running the show now – the joke that Jaro’s life had become. At one point in time the mere thought of a small girl – a child really – was the one who was telling Jaro of all people what to do would have set Jaro into a rage. He’d always had problems with authority, with lords and lordlings looking down on him like he wasn’t fit enough to lick the dirt off their boots when they were the ones who were spoiled and pampered and had yet to do anything meaningful in their lives. But with the girl – the girl was different. They were the same deep down on the inside and that fact alone changed so much, more than Jaro would ever be willing to admit, not even to himself.

It turned out that there wasn’t much for a former Red Rider to do. He couldn’t work for Queen Alianor, who was too beautiful and pure to even sully her life with the mere thought of someone like Jaro. Prince Iridian was the kind of lord that Jaro always hated and Jaro would rather starve to death than ever put up with a spoiled lord like Prince Iridian. He could say what he wanted about Prince Viridian, but at least the man did some work, not lord it over others like Prince Iridian continued to do. And there was nothing in Eviellan. Nothing remained there but the burned remains of Prince Viridian’s rage and destruction. So that left hunting bounties. It wasn’t bad work, if Jaro was being honest; it was very similar to the kind of tasks Prince Viridian had him to do. Jaro just wished it paid better.

The girl – as it turned it out – was right about them being a team. They worked well together. They were both ruthless and ambitious. She would lie through her teeth and use any sympathy and pity she garnered as a weapon. The girl was craftier than him, Jaro admitted, but Jaro had experience and that evened them both out. It wasn’t the life either of them wanted, but it was the one they had, and they were both willing to put in the work to go somewhere. Where exactly that was, neither of them knew. They just knew they wanted up and out, and a lordling’s path to glory wasn’t in the cards for either of them. 

Jaro thought their days would all be the same. Searching for bounties, investigating their last known locations and hideouts and springing a trap for the wanted fugitives to fall into. It turned out that wasn’t to be the case.

It started when Jaro and the girl had finished hunting out one rascally fugitive. He’d been using the local caves as his hideout and lived off the wild animals in the forest, eluding capture for a good long while. Jaro and the girl had smoked him out easily enough and were bringing him back to town for the reward. Jaro had the man tied up nice and tight and was bringing him into town.

It was supposed to be nice and simple. Jaro turned the man in. The girl was waiting in the alley for any potential escape attempts. It was their routine and it worked well for them.

The fugitive – Jaro didn’t know his name – was quiet and complacent, too complacent and perhaps that was what should have been the sign that not all was well.

Jaro had made it to the sheriff’s estate and found one of the many town’s bailiffs instead. Jaro had spoken to the man before about the bounty and, frankly, would have preferred the sheriff but this was the way his life worked now. It was almost there. All Jaro had to do now was make the exchange.

Jaro gripped the man’s arm tightly, making sure the fellow was getting any bright ideas. The bailiff left the room briefly and returned with a modest sack of what Jaro assumed was the reward money. The bailiff whistled and gestured for two guardsmen to take the fugitive. They took the man by the arms, and Jaro turned his attention to the sack of coins in the bailiff’s hand.

“It’s him, the Widower of the Falls –“

“The Strangler of the Woods,” the fugitive corrected from over his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, no one’s gone and asked you, have they?” Jaro called back with a scoff. “He’s here in your tower as asked. Now let’s see the coins.”

The bailiff jiggled the bag in his hand and before Jaro could reach for it, a loud crash caught his attention.

The fugitive had pulled himself free of the guards’ grip and was gone out the second story window in the blink of an eye. Naturally it was in a completely different alley than the one the girl was guarding.

Jaro reached for the pouch but the bailiff pulled it back before he could reach it. “You get paid after the man’s in custody. He’s not in custody now, is he?” the bailiff said with a smirk.

Jaro muttered to himself angrily before rushing to the window and pulling it free. “Widower’s making a run for it. Cut him off at the edge of town. I’ll meet you there,” he called out.

“You had one job! And you couldn’t even manage to get that right. Some Red Rider you are,” the girl muttered angrily before making a run for it.

Jaro didn’t bother to answer the comment with an insult of his own. This is what he got when he let his guard down. It had seemed too easy. He should have known better than that. Life was never that easy, not for the likes of men like Jaro.

Wasting no time, he made a dash for the other window and braced himself for the landing. He stumbled upon hitting the ground, but it was better than twisting his ankle. Jaro ran as fast as he could in the twisting and winding paths through town. There were far more dead ends and tiny alleys than Jaro would have liked, slowing him down but the man was leaving a trail a mile wide, overturning barrels and anything in his path to slow Jaro’s down, but Jaro had grown accustomed to larger prey. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with the man with the girl waiting for him at the other side.

The chase took him to the outskirts of town, Jaro realized with a grin. There was only one road out of the town. With luck, the girl would be waiting for them there already.

Then the man turned left, turning back into town again. That wasn’t part of the plan, but that didn’t matter. Jaro didn’t need the girl. He could catch the man on his own.

Digging deep, Jaro increased his speed. The man glanced back once and ran faster. Jaro took a rock from his path and threw at the man, hoping to slow him down with each throw. Instead, the man veered left again, heading in the opposite direction where the river was. If the man reached the river, Jaro knew he would lose him for sure and all the hours he’d put in staking the man out would be wasted.

That didn’t matter. Jaro still had time. If he caught the man before they reached the bridge, Jaro could still make it. And there it was, looming in the distance and growing larger with each step.

A couple walked into Jaro’s path. He managed to stumble past them without hassling them too much, but he lost precious seconds in doing so. The fugitive was by the bridge now, too far away for him to throw a knife or anything to make a difference.

Jaro was losing him, and he hated losing. This would have never happened if he still had the Red Riders with him. They had been a synchronized team, an efficient, brutal team that got the job done, but that was then. Jaro was just one man now. One man and one girl, and that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the same, not like before. But that didn’t mean Jaro was going to give up. Jaro wouldn’t give up until the bitter end, even if it meant throwing himself off a bridge to catch the man.

“How things have changed,” a voice whispered in his ear. It was so abrupt that Jaro slipped, his foot stepping into a puddle and sending him sprawling over the cobblestones, landing hard on his back, his head hitting the ground hard. He blacked out almost instantly.

In the dream – it had to be a dream, what else could it be – he was alone in complete darkness. There were no cobblestones at his feet. No wind whistling through his cloak. No sun or moon gazing down upon him. No scent of freshly baked bread or the fresh, crisp breeze from the nearby river. There was nothing there beside Jaro. It was unlike any dream Jaro had ever had before.

“It’s a sad day when a Red Rider has trouble catching a common criminal,” the voice, the one from before, whispered from out of nowhere.

“What? Who’s there?” Jaro asked, turning around and around, searching for the source of the sound.

“Imagine,” the voice continued unheeded, like Jaro had never spoken at all, “what you could do if you had one small spark of power.”

“Get to the point then, if this speech is going anywhere. I have places I have to be,” Jaro said impatiently to the empty air before him.

“It shames me to think of you working so hard, Jaro. You have been a hard worker, but you achieved results before. Now? Now you’re struggling with the most basic tasks like a helpless child,” the voice told him.

It was trying to provoke him. Jaro knew that but it was difficult to keep himself in check. His temper had always been a weakness of his.

“So what? What does it matter now? I can’t change how things are now. I would if I could. I must work with what life’s handed to me. The same as everyone else,” Jaro replied, turning his head, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of the figure. 

“But what if you could? I offer this to you, Jaro the Red Rider. A small gift from me to you,” the voice said.

A small flame emerged before him, flickering in the empty air.

“It’s yours if you like. All you have to reach out and take it,” the voice whispered softly, like it was trying to placate a wild animal.

Jaro stepped closer to the small flame. His fingers reached out to touch it before drawing back. “A small piece of power, eh? What’s the price? There’s always a price,” Jaro asked, searching for the voice again.

The voice chuckled. “You were always a perceptive one. You can keep the power of flame. All you have to do for me is one small task: kill the girl.”

“The girl?” Jaro asked, hesitating, his thoughts wandering over to Iona – the girl. Surely the voice didn’t mean her, did it?

“No, not her,” the voice said as if reading Jaro’s thoughts, “you know the one of which I speak. The light to the darkness. The one the prophecy spoke of.”

“Ah. That girl,” Jaro said, remembering his utter failure at the Unauwen castle. “I kill the girl and flame is mine?”

It was just a dream, Jaro reminded himself. None of it was true. None of it was real. He could make all the deals he wanted in dreams. They wouldn’t hurt him. The power of flame? That was impossible. No one could grant such a power. And who was this man – woman? Creature? – to offer it to him? How did it know Jaro as it did? Could it be…?

“How do I know you can promise me this? Who are you?” Jaro asked, turning in every direction to spot the voice.

“I’ll show you” the voice said simply.

With that Jaro’s vision cleared. He was no longer in the darkness and could feel the hard cobblestones digging uncomfortably into his spine. Before him was the shaky view of the bridge with the fugitive running towards it.

“Watch the bridge,” the voice instructed him.

Jaro’s reached out before him, his fingers reaching for the bridge and as easily as he thought it, the bridge was on fire, the flames burning bright, reaching high into the sky. He stared down at his hand, expecting to see something different there but it looked the same as before.

“The flame for the girl,” the voice said to him, demanded almost.

“The flame for the girl,” Jaro agreed, watching the burning bridge before him.

*

While the others were headed for their comfortable homes, Tiuri and Lavinia were making their way to Sir Tiuri’s estate on Ardanwan’s back. It was his estate now, Tiuri reminded himself, not his father’s anymore. The estate – if you could even call it that – had been burned to the ground on Sir Fantumar’s orders. Tiuri, his mother and the rest of the household staff were making slow work of rebuilding it. Tiuri didn’t enjoy the work much, laboring all day under the hot sun, but it had to be done. Tiuri couldn’t stand the sight of his home in ruins. The place had memories for him, good and bad, but it was home.

Thus far, they had managed to rebuild the main hall of the castle. It served as a crude shelter from the elements. Tiuri couldn’t wait until it was all finished. He just wished it didn’t have to take so long.

“He’s hiding something,” Lavinia said out of the blue.

“Who is?” Tiuri asked, wondering if there was something Bors had neglected to tell him when they had left to meet the others. 

“Jussipo. There’s something he’s not telling us,” Lavinia explained.

Tiuri frowned. “How can you tell?” he asked her. Lavinia always had this gift to spot when someone was lying. Perhaps it was because she was an accomplished thief and liar herself that she could spot another like her. It was an ability Tiuri wished he possessed. He had a tendency of believing everything everyone told him, as Lavinia was all too keen to remind him.

“The way he looked at us, or rather, didn’t look at us. It’s easier to lie to someone when you’re not looking at them,” Lavinia told him.

“Look, we agreed to let that go. Jussipo is our friend, not an imposter,” Tiuri reminded her.

“Not that! Friends can lie to each other, you know. I do all the time,” Lavinia said.

“Really?” Tiuri asked skeptically, turning over his shoulder to look at her. Tiuri and Lavinia were on good terms now. There was no reason for her to lie to him. “When did you last lie to me?”

“Just yesterday when you were asking me if you thought the construction on the castle was doing well. It’s not,” Lavinia told him.

Tiuri sighed as he faced forward. “You made your point. If he’s hiding something, I’m sure he has his reasons. Not everyone can be bad all the time, you know,” Tiuri assured her.

“I know that! I was just pointing it out. I still think we should be careful,” Lavinia said defensively.

Tiuri could feel her cross her arms against his back. “I know. You’re looking out for us. It can be annoying at times, but I do appreciate it. I hope you know that,” Tiuri told her.

“Well, one of us has to be careful. We can’t all jump into dangerous situations headfirst without thinking about it,” Lavinia replied. “Besides, you know you love me for it.”

“I do,” Tiuri said softly to himself. 

They spent the remainder of the trip talking about inconsequential topics. Lavinia was telling Tiuri about a particularly unlucky criminal that had made his way to Mistrinaut when they spotted the portcullis in the distance. It was the first part of the castle to be rebuilt as it was essential to keep everyone safe. The gate was rising as one of the guardsmen spotted them in this distance.

Tiuri guided Ardanwen to the stables where a stable boy took the reins from him. Tiuri patted Ardanwen’s back.

“You did good today. I’m glad you’re here,” Tiuri told the horse. It was nice to have one friend make it out of the adventure alive. Tiuri had lost so much.

Ardanwen snorted in what Tiuri hoped was amusement before walking with the stable boy to the stables. 

“Ardanwen knows you appreciate them, Tiuri,” Lavinia assured him.

Tiuri nodded before finally walking with Lavinia to the castle hall. There was a crowd gathered there, everyone chatting excitedly about something. Tiuri and Lavinia exchanged puzzled looks before making their way through the crowd. Tiuri hoped nothing terrible had happened in his absence. There was only so much misfortune he could stomach in a year. It would be nice to have one thing go right for once.

Tiuri searched the crowd for his mother, spotting her at the center of it.

“Mother!” he called out, pushing his way to her.

“Tiuri!” she cried out, rushing over to greet him.

The two met at the center, embracing each other.

“Mother, there’s so much I have to tell you,” Tiuri said.

“It’s going to have to wait, Tiuri. There’s something important I have to tell you,” Darya said, pulling away from the embrace.

In the center of the group, Tiuri spotted a man, sporting a familiar coat walking toward them. Tiuri’s eyes widened when he recognized him.

“Hello, Tiuri. I hope you had a nice trip,” the man greeted him warmly.

“Father?” Tiuri asked, mouth open as he stared at the man he called father, standing before him, alive and well. Sir Tiuri the Valiant had returned. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. This was supposed to go up yesterday but the chapter took longer to write as a result. A few things I wanted to warn everyone about before we end forward into this monster of a fic:
> 
> 1) Jussipo isn't going anywhere. There may be some bumps on the road but he and Foldo are going to be walking into the sunset at the end of it so no one has to worry.  
> 2) I am going to be changing Lavinia and Viridian's fates. I won't say how exactly but they are both going to end up somewhere very different at the end of this story. Depending on how you feel the way the series treated Lavinia and Virdian, you may honestly hate the ending I have in store for them. This is seriously one of 'this make it or break it' type of endings that I could see people being unhappy with. If you have really strong feelings about Lavinia and Viridian staying firming where they are at the end of season 1, then this story may not be for you. If you're unsure where you stand and don't mind spoilers, feel free to PM here or on tumblr and I'll let you know what it is I have in mind for them.  
> 3) I am not 100% happy with how the story was plotted out. It was part of the reason why it took so long to write this chapter as I wanted to make sure I had an idea of where the plot was going before writing so as to not write myself into a corner. I finally decided to move ahead with how the story is planned so keep that in mind as you read.  
> 4) This story is going to get weird sometimes, but it already has dead people rising from the grave so you probably knew that already, right?
> 
> That's all I got for now. I'll try to get an update going once per week, but I do have two big projects coming up so I am still as busy as usual unfortunately. I hope everyone's enjoyed what I've written so far. More will be coming so stay tuned.


	3. Darkness Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiuri and Lavinia struggle to come up with a plan. Foldo, Jussipo and Piak take a detour. Jaro struggles with his new gift and the group makes a decision.

Sir Tiuri looked exactly as Tiuri remembered him, standing proudly before him with the stern face. Instead of the cold, disapproving eyes, Sir Tiuri regarded him warmly.

Any thoughts Tiuri had before were gone from his mind. All he could think about was his father, alive and well, standing before him. It was a second chance that Tiuri never thought to ask for, never thought he’d ever have. It hurt losing Sir Tiuri when he had, just when Sir Tiuri had began to look at him with pride and admiration instead of the disappointment he always had for Tiuri.

“Father!” Tiuri cried out, rushing over to embrace the man before restraining himself. Despite the warm look in the man’s eyes, Tiuri remembered the older knight’s devotion to propriety and appearances. He wouldn’t appreciate Tiuri blubbering all over him like a child.

“Tiuri, it’s good to see you,” Sir Tiuri said, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on Tiuri’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“I don’t understand. How are you here? How are you alive?” Tiuri asked him, staring at the older man like he used to when he was a child looking for an answer.

“Tiuri,” Darya said softly, gently guiding Tiuri away, “let’s discuss this elsewhere. Privately.”

Tiuri nodded blindly, never taking his eyes off the old knight. The rest of the world faded away. He’d forgotten about the crowd of well-wishers who were likely just as happy to see his father as he was.

Darya led them to a more secluded corner of the hall. No rooms had been constructed yet with only pieces of wood to serve as dividers. Tiuri, Lavinia and Darya had to sleep on the ground while construction was still progressing. They had a small corner of the hall to themselves. Tiuri was almost ashamed to have Sir Tiuri witness the incomplete state of it all, but there was no helping it. It still bothered Tiuri that the need to please his father was still there, perhaps it would always be with him.

“Come sit, Tiuri. Tell us about your trip. Did you have a nice evening with your friends?” Darya asked as she tidied up the corner as best she could. She pulled over a small stool for Tiuri to sit on, but Tiuri was too troubled by a mix of emotions to sit. Lavinia silently stood by Tiuri’s side. 

“Your mother’s been telling me about what’s happened these past few months. I must say that it all sounds rather extraordinary,” Sir Tiuri started.

“It’s all true!” Tiuri cut in almost unconsciously. He bit his lip. “Sorry, Father, please continue.”

“I was going to say that – while it might sound a bit far-fetched – I am proud of you, of everything you’ve accomplished. You’ve done the name Tiuri proud – You’ve done  _ me _ proud, Tiuri. No one is going to question the name Tiuri now,” Sir Tiuri continued, looking at Tiuri with the same look he had on his face the last few moments of his life – pride.

“I-I…” Tiuri stumbled. He didn’t know what to say. It was all he ever wanted to hear for years and here it was. Tiuri wished he could live in the moment forever and forget the terrible sight of Sir Tiuri being run over with a sword and bleeding over on the floor. They couldn’t even bury him, Tiuri recalled with dismay. Sir Tiuri’s body had burned and the castle had burned with it. All Sir Tiuri had to mark his passing was a small headstone Tiuri and his mother had commissioned for him.

Tiuri’s eyes blurred with unshed tears at the thought of his father leaving them a second time. “How are you here? Are you real?” Tiuri asked, reaching over to touch him, even briefly if only to assure himself the other man was there.

Sir Tiuri took Tiuri’s hand in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Yes, this is all real, Tiuri. You’re not just imagining it all. It’s not in your head, not a voice or a vision, but reality,” Sir Tiuri assured him.

Tiuri turned to his mother, looking at her helplessly. “But how? How did this happen, Mother?” Tiuri asked.

Darya and Sir Tiuri exchanged a look before Darya turned to address her son. “He just appeared a few moments before you arrived, looking as you see him now, unharmed and whole,” she explained.

“And you remember about…” Tiuri asked, letting the rest go unsaid.

“Yes,” Sir Tiuri confirmed, “I remember dying. I remember what you were trying to accomplish before I died. After that…I don’t recall much after that. I died and then I was just down the hill, looking up at the blue sky before for me like nothing happened.”

Tiuri turned to look at Lavinia. It was just like Jussipo had told them. Perhaps their appearances were linked together somehow? Tiuri wasn’t sure, but it was too convenient for it to be mere chance.

“Oh! Father! There’s someone I’d like for you to meet,” Tiuri exclaimed, bringing Lavinia forward. “This is Lavinia of Mistrinaut. Lavinia, this is Sir Tiuri the Valiant, my father.”

Sir Tiuri inclined his head in greeting. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Lavinia. I’ve heard much about you from my wife. Apparently, I have you to thank for bringing my son home in one piece,” Sir Tiuri said.

“Oh, that’s not true, really. We helped each other. We wouldn’t have accomplished anything without each other,” Lavinia said quietly.

“Even so, I must thank you. My son isn’t the most accomplished swordsman. He couldn’t have made it without your help. If there’s anything I can do for you, all you need do is ask,” Sir Tiuri offered.

“I-thank you,” Lavinia said, looking oddly touched by the knight’s offer. It was likely an offer she didn’t hear often, Tiuri thought. She turned to look thoughtfully in Tiuri’s direction and that was when Tiuri knew she was likely thinking of asking about all the embarrassing stories from Tiuri’s childhood.

Tiuri turned to his father. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but do you know why you’ve returned, Father?” he asked, fearing the answer. If it was the same as Jussipo, perhaps he didn’t know either. Tiuri didn’t know which was worse, knowing or not knowing.

Sir Tiuri and Darya gave Tiuri puzzled looks.

“What? What is it?”

“You mean to say you don’t know already?” Sir Tiuri asked. “I thought the answer was rather obvious.”

Tiuri and Lavinia exchanged worried looks. “What do you mean? What is it?” Lavinia asked.

“It’s the darkness, Tiuri. It’s not gone as we had hoped. The darkness brought your Father back,” Darya explained.

Tiuri felt his heart sink in his chest, finally taking a seat on the stool his mother brought out.

“It can’t be! I defeated Prince Viridian! He’s gone. The darkness should be gone, too!” Lavinia cried out in dismay.

“Are you sure?” Tiuri asked, feeling lost at hearing the news.

“I’m afraid so, Tiuri. This is just like the stories back in Eviellan. When the darkness took over the land, dark, impossible events would occur. The dead rising from their graves? That’s just the kind of dark, terrible acts that would transpire with the darkness, and it’s only the beginning,” she explained.

Lavinia’s face paled at Darya’s words.

“What can we do to stop it?” Tiuri asked.

Darya and Sir Tiuri looked at each other, communicating something silently before turning to face him again.

“There’s nothing  _ you _ can do to stop the darkness, Tiuri,” Sir Tiuri said meaningfully.

“They mean me. I’m the one who has to stop the darkness,” Lavinia said softly.

Tiuri rose to his feet, taking Lavinia’s hand in his own. “Not alone you’re not. We’re a team. Wherever you go, I go too. We’ll fight it together.” He turned to face his parents again, determined. “What is it that we must do to stop the darkness from spreading?” he asked again.

Darya shook her head. “It’s not for me to say. There’s something you must understand, Tiuri, about the life we had before. There was a whole realm of mysticism and magic in Eviellan, but it didn’t belong to everyone. Only a privileged few belonged in that world. All I’ve learned about magic and darkness came from your father,” she cast a nervous chance at Sir Tiuri. Sir Tiuri placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, nodding, gesturing for her to continue. “Your  _ other _ father, Tiuri. Even if I knew how to stop the darkness, I couldn’t. This isn’t something that anyone can help you with. There are those with magic born within them and everyone else. Only those with the magical ability have any chance of combating the darkness. All the rest of us can do is stay out of the way.”

“What a load of rubbish!” Lavinia cried out.

“Lavinia!” Tiuri exclaimed quickly.

Sir Tiuri turned his stern gaze upon Lavinia. “I know it’s not the answer you wanted to hear, young lady, but it’s all the answers we have. There are times in life where you’ll find yourself lacking the knowledge and answers you seek. Crying out about how unfair it all is won’t get you anywhere. It’s best you learn that now. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but one you must learn all the same,” he reprimanded.

Lavinia ducked her head, her cheeks flushed red with shame. “I-I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.” She turned to address Darya. “I’m very sorry for my …outburst. I meant no offense.”

Darya chuckled and graced Lavinia with a warm smile. “It’s no trouble, my dear. I’ve heard worse in my day and you are young still. The young can be hotheaded sometimes,” she said, casting a reproachful look at her husband.

“Father, I am very pleased to see you here, but I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t scold my friends,” Tiuri said through gritted teeth, glaring at his father hoping to communicate silently about how embarrassed he was by the whole incident. Of course, his father had to behave as he always did in front of his friends, especially someone he really liked and wanted to impress.

Sir Tiuri, naturally, didn’t feel the heat of Tiuri’s gaze at all and carried on. “You’re right, of course. Forgive me, Lavinia. I did not mean to rebuke you so. I’ve grown accustomed to running an efficient household. I find that strict discipline to be the most effective method of doing so. You are our guest and shall be treated as such. You are welcome to share your thoughts with us, regardless of whether you agree or not,” Sir Tiuri said, almost amiably – well, as amiable as one like Sir Tiuri could be. 

“Please, speak your mind, Lavinia. We would like to hear what you have to say on the matter,” Darya said encouragingly.

Lavinia turned to Tiuri for help.

“Is there really nothing you know that could help, Mother?” Tiuri asked.

Darya shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid not, Tiuri. If you are seeking answers, I’m afraid you’ll have to look for them elsewhere. There will be no answers on Eviellan magic anywhere in Dagonaut,” Darya confirmed.

“So much for Arman’s books,” Lavinia said dismissively.

Sir Tiuri cast a curious look at her. “What’s this about Arman’s books?” he asked.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you. Jussipo’s returned from the dead as well. We were all wondering as to the cause of it. I came here in the hopes you had some answers for me, Mother,” Tiuri explained.

Darya’s face darkened. “Jussipo’s returned as well? Oh, dear, it’s worse than I thought,” she muttered to herself.

“How is that worse?” Lavinia asked, casting a worried look at Tiuri.

“The spread of the darkness – it’s spreading much more quickly than I would have thought. I thought, perhaps, we would have some time before it consumed everything,” Darya told them.

“Consumed everything? What do you mean, mother?”

“The darkness wouldn’t just affect the dead, Tiuri, but the land, the animals, people, too. The land would grow fallow. The animals would become aggressive and violent. The people, perhaps even more so. We haven’t much time.”

Lavinia wrapped her arms around herself as if the small simple gesture could protect her from the darkness that was to come.

Tiuri leaned in close to his mother, whispering to her softly. “And Father? Jussipo? What about them? Are they dangerous?” Tiuri asked.

Darya cast a thoughtful look at her husband. “I can’t say that I know the meaning behind it – behind the rising of the dead. All I can gather is that they are here for a reason. They have a purpose, a specific task they must carry out. What that task is beyond my comprehension. They aren’t dangerous exactly. They’ll do what they were brought back to do regardless of how we feel about it. I say there’s no harm now in letting them be,” she said softly.

“What if they were meant to hurt us?” Tiuri asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. He didn’t want to fight his father, watch him die all over again. It was painful enough the first time. He couldn’t imagine having to be the one to kill him. He just got him back. Tiuri didn’t want to lose him in such a painful way.

“If they meant to hurt us, Tiuri, they would have already done so by now. I cannot speak for Jussipo, but your father retains his mind and thoughts. They are his own. If the darkness were to take a hold of him, he would fight it with all his might. The same, I imagine, that Jussipo would. If your father meant to hurt us, it would not be through his own actions, but the thoughts and deeds of something else controlling him,” she assured him.

It was all Tiuri needed to hear. He rose to his feet again and found Lavinia gazing hopelessly at the ground, like she wished for it to swallow her whole and end her misery.

“It was wonderful to see you, Father. I’m going to take a walk with Lavinia. We shall speak some more upon my return,” Tiuri announced loudly.

Sir Tiuri nodded, offering his arm to Darya before the two joined the crowd that was waiting for them in the hall.

“Lavinia? Let’s take a walk. I think some air would do us some good,” Tiuri suggested, offering his arm to Lavinia as well. She took it silently and walked with him as he led her outside the castle hall, outside the gates and into the open fields that surrounded his home.

“How can you be so calm about all this?” Lavinia asked, her face looking as troubled as ever.

“I’m not calm. I just – We’ll figure it out. Together. You don’t have to worry about doing this alone,” Tiuri assured her.

Lavinia smiled weakly at him, not entirely convinced by Tiuri’s words. “I know, but we were supposed to get answers about Jussipo, not learn that we have a much larger problem in our hands. What are we supposed to do, Tiuri? I’m just one girl against all this darkness. I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, looking just as lost as she had before.

Tiuri took Lavinia’s hand in his own, looking at her straight in the eyes. “I know, but we have help. Arman’s going to look in his father’s books-“

Lavinia scoffed. “Oh, well, if Arman’s looking through his father’s books, we’ll all be saved. It’s not as if Arman’s known for his proficient research skills,” Lavinia said sarcastically.

“Maybe Jussipo knows something. You did say he was hiding something,” Tiuri reminded her.

“Probably the same as your father. Unless you think your father is being untruthful?” Lavinia asked.

Tiuri thought about it, thinking back to how his father was behaving and acting. “I don’t think so. My father wasn’t hiding anything. He’s not the kind of man who keeps his thoughts to himself. Even if he did, he would have told my mother, and she was convinced that Father would never hurt us.”

Lavinia groaned. “So that means we’re back to where we started!” She kicked out at the grass before, sending small tufts of dirt flying.

“Should we go to the others then? Strategize?” Tiuri asked her.

“How about a compromise?” Lavinia suggested.

Tiuri was taken aback. “A compromise? Coming from you? This I have to hear,” Tiuri said with a grin.

Lavinia rolled her eyes. “You did not invent the concept of a compromise, Tiuri, but yes, a compromise. How about we stay here for a few days and think about everything, think of a solution? We did say we would meet the others in a week. That may give us some time to think of a possible solution.”

“But why?” Tiuri asked. He’d been so sure that Lavinia would want to talk to the others given how panicked she’d been when she heard the news about the darkness.

Lavinia ducked her head, looking down at her shoes. “I saw the look on your face back there. Your father coming back – that means the whole world to you. If we set out to stop the darkness, who knows what might happen to your Father or Jussipo. They could go back to being dead. The darkness isn’t going anywhere. We can afford a few days for you to spend time with your father,” Lavinia said with a shrug.

“I-I-“ Tiuri hadn’t thought of that. He threw his arms around Lavinia and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“What’s that for?” Lavinia asked with a laugh.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“I know. What would you do without me?” Lavinia joked with a grin.

Tiuri wasn’t sure what he would do and he wasn’t eager to find out. Together though, Tiuri was sure they’d find a way to fight the darkness, keep Jussipo and his father from dying again, save Dagonaut once more. How hard could it be?

*

The journey to Jussipo and Piak’s family estate was impeded by their speed. They only had two horses and so they had to share one. After much deliberation, they agreed that Jussipo and Piak would share. Foldo had offered his horse to Jussipo but both brothers had refused. If anything, it just made the bickering between the two worse. Foldo listened to them silently as they rode on their horses, keeping an eye on their surroundings for any danger.

“Foldo? Foldo! Are you listening?” Jussipo asked, bringing Foldo out from his thoughts.

“I’m listening. I’m always listening,” Foldo said softly.

Piak groaned and wiggled in his seat. “Stop doing that,” he complained.

“Stop doing what?” Jussipo asked with a grin.

“You very well know what. Just stop it. The both of you. You’ve barely spent any time together and you’re both already insufferable,” Piak told them.

“You hear that, Foldo?” Jussipo called out. “Apparently, we’re insufferable.”

“I didn’t realize. I’m very sorry, Piak. I’ll try to be less insufferable from now on,” Foldo promised.

“Good. At least I know you’ll keep your word, Foldo, unlike  _ some _ people,” Piak said, casting a pointed look behind him.

“I make no promises. I love Foldo and I don’t care who knows it. You’re just going to have to grow accustomed to it, Piak. You know, I think I’ll write a song about how much I love Foldo.  _ Foldo, Foldo, fair of hair, with looks that none can compare _ – “

“Jussipo, you had your fun,” Foldo said softly, his cheeks slightly pink. Piak sent him a grateful look. Foldo wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get used to that.

Jussipo rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll stop…for now. Imagine if Arman were here. We would have driven him mad. I can’t wait to tease him. It’ll be great,” Jussipo said, a wide grin on his face.

“We should turn here. The path on the left should lead us to your home faster,” Foldo told them, steering his horse to the left.

“Wait! Can we make a stop first?” Jussipo asked.

“What? Why? Don’t you want to see Mum, Jussipo? She’ll be so happy to see you. She might yell at you a little for worrying her, but I’m sure she’ll be glad after that,” Piak said.

“It’s not that. I just don’t want her to see me like this,” Jussipo said softly, gazing down at his torn boots.

Now that Jussipo had mentioned it, he did look a little worse for the wear. Jussipo’s long, dark hair was tangled, looking a bit matted like he hadn’t combed it in weeks. The soles of his boots were dangling by a thread, looking like they were on the verge of falling apart any second. His clothes were torn and dirty, covered in streaks of mud and dirt. His face was in no better shape with the large bags under his eyes. Foldo loved Jussipo with all his heart, but he had to admit that Jussipo wasn’t looking his best.

“Of course, we’ll make a quick stop at my home. We can find something for you there,” Foldo assured him.

Jussipo graced him with a grateful smile, which never failed to warm Foldo from the inside out.

Foldo’s home wasn’t too far away, reaching the distance shortly. The estate wasn’t as large as Arman’s, who loved to remind everyone of how he was now the richest knight in the land, like his father had been before him. It was a modest, practical place and that was all that they needed. His family knew their place, were proud to come from a long line of nobility and had strong ties to the most powerful family in Unauwen. They never felt the need to boast though.

Foldo brought the pair of brothers to the stables before taking them to the main estate.

Jussipo looked up at grand walls, examining them for something.

“What is it?” Foldo asked, looking at the wall with him.

“Nothing. I thought maybe it would be different. It’s been a while since we’ve been here, right, Piak?” Jussipo told him.

“Looks the same to me, just quieter. Where is everyone?” Piak asked, looking around to see if he could spot anyone familiar.

“Mother and Father have gone to visit some relatives in Unauwen. Some of the staff have gone with them,” Foldo explained.

“That means we have the whole place to ourselves. Think of all the trouble we can get up to!” Piak exclaimed, immediately running off indoors.

Jussipo and Foldo hurried behind him. “You’re a knight now, remember? Perhaps you should think about behaving like one?” Jussipo suggested.

Piak frowned, walking slowly back to them. “I suppose,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think I’d turn into a boring person and have no fun when I became a knight. I thought knights were supposed to have adventures.”

“They do sometimes, but they also have manners and behave when they visit their friends,” Jussipo reminded him.

Piak muttered to himself under his breath.

“Besides, we’re here for a reason. Piak, why don’t you see if you can find something for Jussipo to wear. There might be something in my room that would fit him,” Foldo told him.

Piak cast him a suspicious look. “I know what that means. I’m not stupid, you know. I’ll find Jussipo some clothes as long as you both promise to behave,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he took one final look at them before heading upstairs.

Foldo took Jussipo by the arm. “Come on, we should draw you a bath,” he said, pulling Jussipo up behind him.

“Fine. I suppose one of us has to be the responsible adult,” Jussipo replied, following Foldo up the stairs.

Foldo took Jussipo to one of the larger guest chambers, the one with the tub. “Stay here,” he instructed, “while I heat up some water for your bath.”

Jussipo took a seat on a small stool by the bed. “Should you be the one doing this? I’m sure your parents left you someone to help you. I can help if you like.”

“I don’t mind some honest work. You should rest though. I know you’re tired,” Foldo told him.

“I am,” Jussipo admitted softly, the energy from before fading, leaving him looking exhausted like he had the first time Foldo had seen him.

It wasn’t long before Foldo had the bath ready. He tested it with the tip of his finger to make sure. It was hot, but not scalding, which Foldo knew would do wonders on Jussipo’s tired muscles.

“It’s ready!” he called out.

“Great!” Jussipo said, rising from his seat and standing before the tub.

Foldo’s face turned red as he was suddenly reminded of what taking a bath actually entailed.

“I-I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need something,” Foldo said quickly, turning away and walking to the door as fast as he could.

“Wait! Don’t go!” Jussipo called out after him, taking a hold of his wrist.

They both lingered there, neither moving.

“Stay,” Jussipo said softly with the undercurrent of something hidden underneath, leaning his head against Foldo’s back. Foldo wished he knew what it was exactly, but he had his suspicions. “Stay,” Jussipo said again. “Tell me about what I’ve missed. I won’t take long.”

Foldo hesitated, torn between respecting Jussipo’s wishes and propriety. “Fine,” he said at last. Foldo could feel Jussipo nodding at his back before he let go of his wrist.

Foldo pulled the stool Jussipo had been using earlier forward and sat on it, his back to Jussipo, wincing when he heard clothes hitting the floor.

“So…what have you all been doing since I’ve gone?” Jussipo asked casually, like he was inquiring about the weather instead of what he missed since he’d been dead. “How long has it been exactly…since I died?”

“Two months,” Foldo said softly. He could hear the sharp inhale of breath behind him and then a loud splash.

“Jussipo? Are you alright?” Foldo asked, worry eating away at the pit of his stomach.

“I’m fine,” Jussipo said quickly. “That long, huh? So what has Tiuri been up to all this time then? I’m sure Lavinia’s keeping him in check.”

Foldo kept his eyes forward, finding a spot in the patterned wall to stare at. “Tiuri’s estate was burned down so he’s been rebuilding it. Lavinia’s been helping him,” Foldo informed him.

“She didn’t go home to…where is she from again?” Jussipo asked.

“Mistrinaut, I think. Her father’s the mayor. No, she decided to stay and help Tiuri, not that Tiuri’s complaining,” Foldo told him.

“He wouldn’t with how keen he is on her,” Jussipo pointed out. “What about Arman?”

“Arman’s father was arrested. Word got around that he was helping Viridian and was plotting to kill half the nobles in Dagonaut so Queen Alianor had no choice but arrest him for treason. The trial’s supposed to be in a few weeks.”

Jussipo whistled. “That has to be rough. How’s Arman taking it?”

“Not well,” Foldo answered, turning his attention to his shoes now. “He won’t admit it but he’s hurting. He won’t talk about it though. Tiuri and I have tried, but I guess he thinks we don’t care, that we’ll just say he deserved it.”

“He does,” Jussipo said flatly.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Foldo said quickly, not wanting to argue about whether Arman’s father deserved to be tried for treason. “What else do you have questions about?”

“Piak. Was he alright? Were you looking out for him? I know he’s not your brother, but that’s what I would have wanted you to do, to look out for him like he was,” Jussipo told him softly.

Foldo felt the grief from the previous days come back in a rush. He tried his best to push it back down. Jussipo was here. There was no need for grief, not anymore. “I know. I tried my best, but he’s stubborn like you. He insisted he could take care of himself. I made my excuses to visit him, and he was…he was as fine as one could be when their brother dies, I suppose,” Foldo said honestly.

“Queen Alianor knighted him? Piak was saying something about being a knight,” Jussipo asked.

Foldo sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Yes, she knighted all of us, Tiuri, Arman, Piak, and I. Not Lavinia though. I don’t think she cares about being a knight.” Foldo paused, wondering what else he’d forgotten. “Queen Alianor said Piak was the youngest knight in all of Dagonaut,” Foldo added, knowing Jussipo would like that.

“Th-that’s amazing. My little brother, the youngest knight in all of Dagonaut,” Jussipo said proudly. 

“I know. I was proud of him, too. I would have looked out for him, too, if you hadn’t come back. I’ll look out for both of you,” Foldo promised.

“I know, Foldo.” Jussipo coughed. “And you? How have you been faring in my absence?”

Foldo hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he should be honest or not, but, at the same time, Foldo wasn’t going to be keeping secrets from Jussipo. “Me?” he laughed, almost bitterly. “I was trying not to think about how I lost the love of my life,” Foldo said softly, whispered almost, hoping Jussipo wouldn’t hear that or pretend he had said something else instead.

“Foldo…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” Foldo said brusquely, hoping that Jussipo wouldn’t ask him anything else.

“Fine. I’m almost done. Just give me a moment,” Jussipo told him.

Foldo waited in silence, trying to calm himself. He didn’t want Jussipo to see him upset, especially over nothing. There was nothing to be upset over…not anymore.

The sound of bare feet on the floor echoed loudly in the room, followed by a loud thud. Foldo told himself that it didn’t mean anything. Jussipo had been just as an accomplished swordsman as Foldo had been. The other man was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

“Foldo?” a voice called out softly.

“Yes?”

“Can you help me?” Jussipo asked.

Foldo’s thoughts immediately went to a dark place. Jussipo was hurt, his mind supplied immediately. Foldo immediately rose to his feet, rushing over to the tub, finding Jussipo half collapsed on the floor, his back to Foldo, standing in a puddle of water.

“Oh,” Foldo said, staring at the scene before him.

Jussipo reached the edge of the tub, trying to pull himself up to his feet but struggling to maintain a grip on the slippery surface.

“You fell,” Foldo said calmly. Of course, that was what it was. Foldo had been silly to think it was anything more serious.

“Yes, what else could it have been? Now stop staring and help me,” Jussipo told him. 

Foldo rushed over to his side, keeping clear of the water that had accumulated on the floor. He reached over and pulled Jussipo up by his arms. It took some maneuvering but Foldo was able to gently pull Jussipo off the ground and guide him over to the stool he’d been sitting in earlier. He could feel Jussipo’s steady gaze on him.

“What?” Foldo asked, feeling himself grow red at the attention.

“Nothing. I was thinking of how you’re so quick to come to my defense. My hero,” Jussipo teased as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Foldo closed his eyes, released his hold on Jussipo’s arms, one hand went to cradle the back of Jussipo’s head as he deepened the kiss, the other went to Jussipo’s waist – his very wet and very naked waist, Foldo’s mind reminded him suddenly.

Foldo jumped back, quickly turning around to give the other man his privacy. “I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll find something for you to cover yourself with,” Foldo said as he wandered in the opposite corner of the room. He discovered an old armoire there and found some old sleeping gowns that had seen better days but would serve for the time being. He threw them in Jussipo’s general direction.

“Oof! Thanks,” Jussipo said. “You don’t have to apologize, you know. I was the one who kissed you.”

“I know, but it was improper of me to do so,” Foldo replied, keeping to his corner of the room, where it was safe.

Jussipo chuckled lightly. “I should have known you’d be so gallant. You’re the perfect knight,” he told him.

“I don’t know about that,” Foldo said skeptically. He still felt he had a lot to learn. He jumped when he felt a finger tap him on the shoulder.

“You can turn around now. I’m decent like you wanted,” Jussipo teased. The other boy had managed to throw the sleeping gown over himself, covering himself from neck all the way down to his toes. His face was cleaner now and his hair looked significantly better than it had before. The bags under the other man’s eyes were even more prominent now, and he looked thinner than Foldo remembered him being.

“I’m sorry for startling you earlier…I just got a little excited. I’ve wanted to do that since I came back and I just couldn’t wait anymore,” Jussipo told him, looking abashedly at his feet.

Foldo smiled at him. “I don’t mind. I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, not when you’re not at your best,” Foldo explained.

“I know. I…appreciate that. It was entirely unnecessary but appreciated all the same,” Jussipo said with a wide grin.

“I hope you’re done with whatever private moment you wanted. I found you some clothes, Jussipo,” Piak announced loudly, stomping his feet to alert them of his presence. His eyes were closed as if he had expected something terrible to be waiting for him.

Jussipo took the clothes and examined them with a grimace. “Olive? Mustard? What were you thinking, Piak? Mum’s going to think I was devoured and possessed by some ill-dressed ghost,” Jussipo complained as he turned the garment over.

“I just grabbed whatever looked decent,” Piak said with a shrug.

Jussipo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You were snooping in the other rooms, weren’t you? That’s why you took so long,” Jussipo said.

Piak shook his head. “No, I wasn’t! I wouldn’t do that,” Piak protested loudly.

“You’ve done it before. How many times have I told you not to do that?” Jussipo reminded him.

Piak pretended to think. “Too many to count. It doesn’t matter anyway. I wasn’t snooping. I was …giving you some privacy,” Piak admitted quietly.

Jussipo’s stern features softened. He placed a hand on Piak’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that. Foldo and I are always happy to have you around. That’s never going to change no matter what happens,” he turned to Foldo, “right, Foldo?”

Foldo nodded. “Of course, no matter what.”

Piak seemed appeased by that, going back to examining the room before him.

Foldo watched the two of them carefully. Jussipo had returned to making faces at the clothes Piak brought him, while Piak was chatting about what he found on the way to Foldo’s room.

“I’ll take that and find something to your liking,” Foldo said, reaching out for the pile of clothes Jussipo had finished complaining about.

“You don’t have to do that. They’re fine as they are,” Jussipo protested.

“I don’t mind. We should stay the night. We could all use some dinner and some rest before we head out,” Foldo suggested, casting a meaningful glance at Piak.

Jussipo, naturally, rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll entertain the littlest knight here.”

“Hey! I’m not little,” Piak retorted.

“I said littlest, not little. There’s a difference, Piak,” Jussipo corrected him.

Piak shook his head adamantly. “No, there isn’t. It’s the same thing!”

Foldo took that as his cue to leave and left the two brothers bickering while he returned to his room to find something more appropriate for Jussipo to wear. Jussipo was smaller and slimmer of the two so it was challenging for Foldo to find something that wouldn’t completely drown him. He located a nice doublet and some trousers that he knew Jussipo would have minimal issues with and made his way to the guest chamber. He could still hear the brothers talking, but at least, he told himself, they weren’t still bickering.

The two brothers had moved on from the doorway and had made themselves comfortable on the bed.

“Jussipo?” Piak asked softly, almost whispered.

“Yes, little brother of mine?” Jussipo asked.

“Are you happy, Jussipo?” Piak asked.

Jussipo pretended to think about it and then smiled up at him. “I have you and Foldo and Tiuri, Arman and Lavinia on my side. I have everything I could ever want. Of course, I’m happy.”

“That’s good,” Piak said to himself. “He…makes you happy, doesn’t he?” Piak didn’t have to say who  _ he _ was. 

Foldo realized they hadn’t noticed his presence yet. He was about to clear his throat when Jussipo spoke.

“He does. I’m very fortunate that Foldo feels the same way. We’re lucky to have each other,” Jussipo answered in reply.

“Good. You have to remember to treat him well then,” Piak told him.

Jussipo scoffed. “Me? Aren’t you supposed to be having this conversation with Foldo and not the other way around? In fact, I think I’m supposed to have this conversation with you!” Jussipo exclaimed.

Piak rolled his eyes. “Please, Jussipo. We both know that it’s not Foldo who’s going to be causing problems between the two of you. Foldo’s kind and considerate, unlike  _ you _ with all the songs you write about yourself. I’m just saying you should be sure to show him you appreciate him occasionally,” Piak said.

Foldo felt that was his signal to cut in before the two brothers could argue some more. “I wouldn’t know about that. Jussipo’s already written a song about us already,” Foldo added diplomatically.

“Foldo! Perfect timing. You see, Piak? Even Foldo thinks you’re being unfair,” Jussipo told him.

Piak ignored his brother, turning to address Foldo. “Just promise me you’ll take care of him,” Piak said.

Foldo nodded, placing the bundle of clothes on Jussipo’s chest. “I promise. We’ll take care of each other. Don’t worry,” Foldo promised.

“Well, while we’re all here making promises to each other. Can you two promise me something?” Jussipo asked, his tone more serious.

Foldo and Piak gave Jussipo their undivided attention. “Go on, Jussipo. We’re listening.”

“Promise me if anything were to happen to me-“

“Don’t you dare say that!” Piak cried out in protest.

“We won’t let that happen,” Foldo said softly, his heart aching at the mere thought of anything happening to Jussipo.

Jussipo carried on. “Promise me you’ll take care of each other,” he said in a voice that brokered no argument.

“Fine, but nothing’s happening to you,” Piak said adamantly, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Of course,” Foldo said.

Jussipo’s face relaxed, looking as if a heavy burden were lifted off his shoulders. “Good,” he said sleepily, yawning into his hand.

“Why don’t you get dressed and rest a little? Piak and I will help with dinner. We’ll call you when it’s ready,” Foldo suggested.

Jussipo gave Foldo a knowing look. “Fine, but don’t think I know what you’re up to. You’re coddling me and I don’t appreciate it, Foldo.”

“It’s not …unwarranted,” Foldo said a little defensively.

“You looked terrible, Jussipo, like you haven’t slept in weeks!” Piak informed him.

“Do I look that bad?” Jussipo asked, sitting up to examine his hands, turning them over to examine every exposed surface.

“Just rest. You’ll look better after you’ve rested for a little, I’m sure,” Foldo assured him, casting a reproachful look in Piak’s direction. Foldo adored Jussipo and his brother, but he sometimes wished the both of them were more tactful than they were.

Jussipo smiled at him gratefully with Foldo returning the smile. Piak groaned as he pulled on Foldo’s arm and dragged him out of the room. Piak had been to the estate enough times to remember where the kitchen was and presumed to drag Foldo there.

“Piak,” Foldo said as he pulled his arm free.

“Yes, Foldo?” Piak said, equally as serious.

“We have to watch over Jussipo. We don’t know if this …we don't know how long he’s going to be with us. We must be sure that no matter what, we’ll take care of him. Perhaps with the both of us watching him, we’ll be able to keep him,” Foldo said softly.

Piak’s features softened before hardening, nodding. “He’ll stay – he  _ has _ to,” Piak said solemnly.

Foldo wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt terrible that Piak had to experience such a loss at such a young age. Foldo wished he could promise him that Jussipo would stay forever, But Foldo knew better to promise that. He hoped that, with the two of them watching over him, Jussipo would stay alive.

*

Jaro was normally overjoyed at a job well done, where he was paid with no fuss being made. This time, however, Jaro felt as if he were in a daze, drunk on something – power perhaps.

The pair of them – Jaro and the girl – made their way out of town, heading in a random direction. Jaro tossed the girl her share of the reward. The girl counted her half of the reward money, grumbling angrily about how Jaro had given her less than he promised, which she always complained about. She was quick to notice Jaro’s strange behavior.

“What’s the matter with you? You hit your head too hard?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m fine,” Jaro said dismissively.

“Really?” the girl asked skeptically. “You look like piss.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to think,” Jaro told her. 

“Think? I didn’t know you did that. It seems like a different part of you does the thinking for you,” she retorted.

Jaro would have thumped her on the head if he could. He found that the girl didn’t respond to threats and there was little point in trying to argue with her. The girl seemed to understand that Jaro wasn’t in a mood to talk and left him to his thoughts.

His mind was still reeling from the strange dream he had. He wasn’t entirely convinced it all really happened. If it wasn’t for the burning bridge, Jaro would have thought he was imagining it all, but it was hard to argue with a bridge spontaneously catching on fire after a strange voice promised him power. There was a catch because, of course, there always was. Life was never easy even when a mysterious voice offered you power in the palm of its hand.

Jaro kept arguing with himself about the event, half convinced it was a dream and the other convinced it was real. If he was going to move on with his life, he needed to be sure.

Jaro spurred his horse forward. The girl called out after him, but he ignored her. He rode until he spotted a tavern in the distance. He took off inside, not caring to see if the girl followed. He called for a drink from the bar and settled himself into a dark secluded corner, taking hold of a lantern and placing it on the table before him. The girl took a seat opposite him, scowling at him but choosing to remain silent for the moment. Jaro knew what that meant. He was in for an ugly confrontation later, Jaro was sure of it.

Inside the lantern was a small lit candle that Jaro pulled out carefully onto the table.

The girl cast him a look that Jaro knew meant she thought he was completely mad, but he was used to that look by now and promptly ignored it.

If Jaro remembered correctly, the voice – the entity, presence, whatever it was – had promised the power of flame in exchange for the life of the girl, the one that had defeated Prince Viridian in Unauwen. Jaro remembered vaguely agreeing to this exchange. If he wanted to keep this power – which Jaro very much wanted – then he had to kill the girl. But first, he had to control the power, assuming it all wasn’t a dream.

Jaro decided to start with the candle. The flame flickered with each passing patron. Jaro experimentally reached out to touch the flame until he felt the flame prick at his finger. He stared at the flame, willing it to rise higher, but it remained small, growing smaller with each drip of wax. Jaro frowned. This was going to be harder than he had presumed.

He reached out and pinched the wick between his two fingers, a small plume rising from where the flame once stood. Perhaps, he thought, it would be easier with the flame gone. It wasn’t. Jaro was at a loss at what to do. Had he imagined it all, after all?

Jaro took a swig at his drink, long grown warm with the time. He stared at the candle some more. The girl had long since grown bored at Jaro’s attempts and left Jaro to his own devices, muttered something about waiting for him outside once he was finished. Jaro was fine with that. It let him concentrate, never mind that the girl never said anything. He didn’t need her.

No matter how hard Jaro stared at the candle, it wouldn’t light. He took another swig of his drink and then another…and another until his vision blurred before his eyes. Whenever he finished one cup, the barmaid would come and fill it up again. He tried commanding the candle, silently at first and then audibly until he was finally shouting at the stupid stick, throwing it and the lantern off the table.

Maybe, a soft voice in his head whispered, maybe he needed the girl. Jaro grit his teeth in anger. No, stupid voice in his head, he didn’t need the girl. Jaro the Red Rider had killed and hunted countless without some stupid girl’s help. He didn’t need her to light some stupid candle. He could do it on his own.

It took Jaro approximately less than a minute to come to the conclusion that perhaps he might, possibly, need the girl’s help, but only a little bit, not too much, just to get himself started. That was all. He could do the rest on his own.

Jaro ran his hand through his hair, gulped down the rest of his drink before making his way outside. He wasn’t even sure if the girl was still waiting for him. She did what she liked and made her disapproval very loudly known. She might have taken off on her own to teach him a lesson.

Jaro wearily made his way out the door, knowing he was in for verbal lashing if nothing else, when something - Jaro wasn’t sure what exactly – hit him square in the throat and stomach. It knocked the wind out of him, sending him sprawling on the floor.

“That’s right, you good for nothing sot! Stay in the dirt where you belong,” a strange voice called out.

Jaro gripped his stomach, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. He staggered slowly to his feet, coughing as he tried to breathe.

“Come at me then, you loathsome piece of dung,” the voice taunted him.

Jaro finally managed to get his breathing under control and straightened, turning around to try to find the source of the voice. His vision swam, making Jaro regret having drank so much.

“Are you drunk? No wonder you’re so slow,” the girl’s voice came from nowhere.

“Why’d you go and hit me for? It’s too early for this nonsense,” Jaro complained as he squinted, trying to make her out in the darkness. It was dark already? Jaro distinctly recalled it being day when they’d arrived at the tavern. Hmm, no matter. Jaro could find his way in the dark.

Jaro could hear the girl stomping off into the distance. Now that he knew there was no danger, he relaxed, letting himself slump against the tavern wall, closing his eyes as he felt himself drift off. He was awakened by a cold splash of water hitting squarely in the face. Jaro jumped back, forgetting where he was standing, his head hitting the wall behind him.

“Are you awake now?” the girl asked.

Jaro mumbled to himself, reaching to rub the back of his head. He ached all over.

“Good,” the girl said, taking a fierce grip on his arm and dragging him. She made him walk a long distance until they came across a small alcove hidden beneath a tree grove.

Jaro let himself collapse on the ground while the girl started a fire for them. Jaro almost laughed at how easily she got it to light for her. Why couldn’t he do that? What was he missing?

The girl settled across from him, tending to the fire with a large stick. She looked up at him expectantly. “Well?”

It took Jaro a considerable amount of time to realize the girl was waiting for him to speak. “What?” he asked.

The girl sighed, tossing a log into the fire. “I tried to be patient, but it seemed to me that you weren’t going anywhere on your own. I decided to accelerate the process, but that didn’t work,” she said, looking at him scornfully. “At least we know it doesn’t work when you’re drunk.”

“What doesn’t work?” Jaro asked, his mind struggling to figure out what she meant.

“Your powers,” the girl reminded him, giving that look that meant she thought he was dense and stupid.

Jaro was taken back. “How do you know about that?”

The girl gave him the  _ look _ again. “How could I not know? It’s so obvious. You were staring at that candle waiting for something to happen, like you were going to make something happen. Tell me what happened at the bridge,” she told him.

Jaro scoffed. “Why should I tell you anything?” Sure, they had agreed to be partners and they worked together and planned their hunts, but that didn’t mean Jaro trusted her. Jaro didn’t trust anyone.

The girl rolled her eyes. “You obviously can’t do it on your own. You might as well tell me. I’m going to find out sooner or later. Why don’t we just stop wasting time and get to the part where you tell me everything,” the girl pointed out.

Jaro hesitated. He had to admit that she had a point, as much as he hated to admit it, and he had to be certain that he wasn’t going mad, that he hadn’t imagined it all. “I was chasing after that widower-“

“Strangler,” the girl corrected.

Jaro glared at her before continuing. “As I was saying, the widower – I was chasing him down when I slipped…” he waited for the girl to make some comment, but none came. She looked at him attentively, listening. He continued, “I hit my head on the ground and my vision went black. I thought it was a dream. I was in a dark place – not a place, it was nothing. I was nowhere. There was nothing there and no one, not even dirt on the ground. It was just me and the darkness, and a voice whispering to me, telling me about how much I could accomplish with just a little bit of power.” Jaro looked down at the tips of his fingers, rubbing them together. “The voice made it look so easy,” he said wistfully. “It said I could have the power of flame if I wanted it. All I had to do was reach out to take.”

“But?” the girl prompted.

Jaro looked at her.

“There’s always a price,” the girl said angrily, her hand clenched in afist.

Jaro nodded. There always was. Nothing was ever easy. Both of them knew that. “The voice said I needed to …”

“What?” the girl asked.

Jaro said nothing, looking into the fire instead.

The girl rolled her eyes at him but didn’t press the matter. They both knew the other well enough to know when to push and when to leave well enough alone.

“Who’s the voice belong to then? Where’d it come from?” the girl asked.

Jaro wasn’t sure but he had a feeling about the who and where the voice came from. “It’s him,” he said quietly. “The prince of darkness.”

The girl’s eyes widened. Jaro scoffed, waving at her dismissively. “Not that prince of darkness. It’s his highness, Prince Viridian. Who else could it be?” Jaro told her.

“Are you sure?” the girl asked suspiciously.

Jaro sputtered. “Yes, I’m sure! I think I’d know Prince Viridian when I see him,” Jaro retorted.

“Well, you said you didn’t see him though. Who’s to say it’s actually him and not someone else?” the girl argued.

Jaro’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at, girl? Spit it out already.”

“You know Prince Viridian so you know how to talk to him. If you aren’t sure this voice is really him then you really don’t know what you’re up against,” she said simply.

Jaro hadn’t thought of that. He took a moment to think about the voice again, trying to remember every detail of it. Was it really him? Was it really Prince Viridian? “It knew me,” Jaro said at last. “It mocked me. Told me how useless I’ve become. It’s him. No one but him or the other Red Riders would know about my failures.”

The girl seemed satisfied with the answer for now, but Jaro could already envision having another conversation down the road. Nothing was ever easy with this girl.

“What’s all this about hitting me then? What was that all about?” Jaro asked, still feeling the ache in his throat from where she’d hit him.

The girl shrugged, playing with some wood she’d gathered. “It was something Lavinia said about staying in the moment, a moment of great emotion. I thought if you thought you were in danger then you would be able to use your powers. Obviously, that isn’t the case,” she explained.

“Please! You just did it so you could call me names without me yelling them back at you,” Jaro replied.

“Well, maybe that had something to do with it,” the girl said with a grin.

They both burst out laughing at that. Jaro could feel the smile creep on his face, forcing it into a frown when he noticed.

“That’s it!” the girl exclaimed suddenly, rising to her feet, starting to pace back and forth.

“What’s it?” Jaro asked.

“You said that he made it look so easy, that all you had to do was reach out and take it. What if the reason it hasn’t worked so far was because you were forcing it, trying too hard to make it happen? You were too angry or too drunk or too frustrated for it to happen? What if it is just as easy as reaching out and taking it,” the girl argued.

They both turned to look at the fire. “Go on, then. Try it,” she told him, taking a step back from the fire.

Jaro leaned forward, reaching for the flame, repeating the same words in his head over and over again, trying to repeat the same sensation he had the first time he felt the flames within his fingers. And there it was, a small flicker of fire in the palm of his hand, as small as the one in the candle in the lantern. Jaro jumped up to his feet and laughed, feeling a kind of joy he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Do it again! Do something else!” the girl told him excitedly.

Jaro focused on the flames, remembering to stay calm. It was easy, he reminded himself. All he had to do was reach for it. The flames shifted, grew larger until they circled around the fire, long and serpent-like.

“Again!” she cried out.

Jaro twisted the flames again, turning the serpent into a dragon, making it spit out its own funnel of flame into the air. He went on and on, unprompted. The dragon turned into a rabbit, dashing around them beyond the purview of the flames. The rabbit was chased by dogs, leading on knights on horses. Jaro felt unstoppable, like he could do anything he set his mind to.

The two celebrated in a show of light and flame, and for a moment, it seemed like nothing else mattered and they had all they wanted in the world.

*

Tiuri had enjoyed the time spent with his mother and father. Lavinia had told him to appreciate the time they had together and Tiuri had tried his best. There were moments he had almost forgotten that the events of the past few months had occurred, and everything seemed fine and well. Tiuri was just rebuilding his family estate with his family and there was nothing wrong at all.

And then a week passed, and the time came for Tiuri and Lavinia to meet their friends. Tiuri felt a little guilty for failing to come up with possible solutions to the growing darkness, but Lavinia was right. Tiuri didn’t know if stopping the darkness would result in Sir Tiuri and Jussipo returning to the grave. It was best to take the time to spend a few moments with his father before finally saying goodbye.

Sir Tiuri and Darya waved them good-bye as Tiuri and Lavinia made their way back to the inn where the group of friends always met. Tiuri had thrown propriety to the side and given his father one final hug. Sir Tiuri surprised Tiuri by returning the hug.

“Stay safe,” Sir Tiuri whispered in his ear.

“You, too,” Tiuri said, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat.

The two pulled away. Tiuri looked at his father for a long moment, committing his features to memory, not knowing when he would ever see him again.

Then the two were off.

Tiuri and Lavinia had been the first to arrive. Lavinia found a nice secluded corner for them to sit in. Tiuri wasn’t sure what Lavinia thought, but he was eager to hear what the others thought. Lavinia, ever the cynic, had no hopes the others had any ideas at all. Tiuri was trying to be optimistic, but even he had his doubts.

Arman was the second to arrive, greeting them with a serious look on his face.

“Did you find anything?” Tiuri asked him.

Arman settled himself in his seat, turning up to glare at him. “Not even a ‘hello,’ Tiuri? ‘How have you been?’ Just straight to business,” Arman scolded him.

Tiuri was vaguely reminded of his father’s sense of matters and etiquette. “I’m sorry. How are you, Arman? I hope you’ve been well,” Tiuri said.

Arman rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Tiuri. Thanks for asking,” he said sarcastically.

“Well?” Lavinia asked, “Did you find anything?”

Arman looked down to the table. “No, unfortunately not.”

Lavinia leaned back in her seat, crossed her arms, looking up to the ceiling. “I told you,” she reminded Tiuri.

“Told you what?” Arman asked suspiciously, looking back and forth between the two of them like they were hiding something from him.

“Nothing, Arman. Lavinia’s just being rude,” Tiuri assured him.

Arman seemed satisfied with the response and went over to the barkeep to order some drinks. In his absence, Foldo, Jussipo and Piak arrived, quickly taking over Arman’s seat. Lavinia turned to scrutinize the other man, scanning for any visual clues.

“What?” Jussipo asked upon noticing Lavinia’s gaze.

Foldo shook his head, turning to glare at Lavinia. “Nothing. She’s just being paranoid,” Foldo told him.

“How’ve you been, Tiuri? Lavinia?” Jussipo asked, turning to each of them in turn.

“Fine,” they both said in response.

Arman returned to the table with three drinks in hand. Before another argument could start about a certain someone taking Arman’s chair, Lavinia cleared her throat. The group of friends turned their attention to her.

“Tiuri’s got something to say,” Lavinia announced loudly, looking at Tiuri expectantly.

“Yes. Right. Well, we’ve discovered some news on Jussipo’s…on recent events,” Tiuri began.

The group all looked at him with surprised looks as if they hadn’t expected him to find anything.

“What did you find?” Foldo asked at last.

Tiuri and Lavinia shared a look before Tiuri addressed the group. “The darkness that was threatening to take over. It’s not gone. Lavinia didn’t defeat it. It’s back and it’s what bringing people back to life, my father included. If we don’t stop it, it could consume everything, make the land fallow, possess animals, make them violent, even possess people,” Tiuri explained.

The group all shouted at once, three different sets of questions all aimed at Tiuri and Lavinia, all save for Jussipo who’s face darkened upon hearing the news.

“Enough! No arguing. We’ll do this one at a time,” Lavinia turned to Piak, “why don’t you start, Piak?”

Piak cast a worried look at Jussipo, sharing a look with Foldo before speaking. “What does this mean for…everyone that’s come back?”

Tiuri chose his words carefully, knowing that it would be a difficult topic to broach all the same. “I don’t know. My mother seems to think the people …who’ve returned aren’t dangerous, but it’s the darkness that brought them back. If we defeat the darkness, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. They could return to what they were before,” Tiuri said as gently as he could.

Piak rose to his feet. “No! I’m not losing my brother again. There has to be another way,” Piak exclaimed almost tearfully.

Jussipo pulled on his brother’s arm, pulling him back to his seat before placing his hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath before speaking, looking Piak in the eye. “If the darkness is as terrible as Tiuri says it’ll be then we have to stop it. There can be no argument about that,” Jussipo said sternly. “No matter what, even if that means-“

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Piak cried, burying his face in Jussipo’s shoulder.

“You’re a knight now, Piak, and that means doing the right thing at all costs. It won’t matter if I’m alive if we’re all starving and being attacked by people and animals alike. Besides, we don’t know what’ll happen to me at the end of it all. Don’t despair just yet. There's still much we don’t know and that means there’s hope,” Jussipo said softly as he stroked Piak’s head.

Piak nodded, pulling away from Jussipo and wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“What do we do then? What can we do?” Arman asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

Tiuri turned to look at Lavinia, who was looking at the floor now, her face troubled.

“Lavinia can stop it, but we don’t know or where to start,” Tiuri admitted.

The group grew silent then, each pondering what they could do in such a situation as the ones they found themselves in.

It was Arman who spoke up at the end. “Easy. Why don’t we start at the beginning, at the source of it all?” Arman asked.

Tiuri frowned. “What do you mean? We don’t know where the darkness is coming from or the source of it. How would we start there?” Tiuri asked.

Arman rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Think about what we do know. Your father and Jussipo were brought back by the darkness. Why don’t we re-trace their steps? There might be some clues there.”

Tiuri had to admit that it was sound logic. “My father wasn’t buried anywhere. His body was burned with my family’s estate. There was no body to find,” Tiuri told them.

“Then we go to where we do know where one of these …returned came from,” Arman suggested, eyes turning to face Jussipo.

Jussipo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me? What? No! I don’t want to go back there!” Jussipo exclaimed.

Lavinia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why not?” she asked simply.

Jussipo shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Do we  _ have _ to?”

“It’s the only clue we have, Jussipo! Now’s not the time to grow squeamish,” Arman scolded him.

“Jussipo?” Foldo asked softly.

“It’s nothing. I just don’t think we’re going to find anything there,” Jussipo told them.

“Did you remember something from before?” Lavinia asked quickly.

“Well, no, but-“

“Well, then, there we go! That’s the plan. We’ll go to your grave and search for clues,” Lavinia stated adamantly in a voice that brokered no argument.

“I have a good feeling about this,” Arman told him, his face lighting up with the idea of a quest. “The danger knights are at it once more.”

They all groaned in unison.

“I thought I told you we weren’t calling ourselves that,” Jussipo reminded him.

Arman frowned, looking slightly affronted at the reminder. “Well, I don’t recall any of you lot thinking of anything better!”

“What about the dragon knights?” Piak suggested eagerly.

Arman scoffed. “No, you idiot, we can’t call ourselves the dragon knights.”

“Why not?” Piak asked.

“Because people will expect a dragon when they hear that – that’s why!” Arman argued.

Lavinia banged her fist on the table before the group could descend into, yet, another argument. “How about we don’t call ourselves anything because we can’t agree on anything?” Lavinia suggested.

Arman scowled, crossing his arms against his shoulder. “None of you are any fun at all.”


	4. The Greater Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Iridian gets a surprise visit. Jaro's gift comes with it's own set of complications. The gang make it to Jussipo's grave.

Life for Prince Iridian had returned to something resembling normalcy after the events of the past few months. With his brother gone, there was no looming threat to danger to Unauwen or Dagonaut. Eviellan was a land of lost dreams at this point. His brother had made sure of that.

Queen Alianor remained free to marry again. It was not yet confirmed, but Iridian had high hopes that a partnership between their two kingdoms remained strong. There was no word of marriage…yet, but it was early still.

Iridian and Alianor had both found themselves occupied with other matters. King Favian had taken ill, leaving Iridian to attend council meetings, and lead the arduous investigation into his brother’s allies and last affairs before his death. Undoubtedly, there were others aside from Sir Fantamur who had helped his brother assemble his power. It now fell on Iridian’s shoulders to determine who still lay loyal to the crown and who could be harboring resentments his brother once stoked. Queen Alianor was similarly occupied with replacing her loyal Grey Riders and assuring the loyalty of her vassals. Fortunately for Queen Alianor, she had her new knights to help her. Undoubtedly, Alianor would make use of them sooner rather than later.

Then there was the girl, the young Lavinia of Mistrinaut. Iridian had hoped to coax her to Unauwen’s side. Alianor, he knew, likely wanted the same, but the girl remained elusive to them both. She had rejected offers from both for a knighthood and all it entailed. She remained at the boy, Tiuri’s – Sir Tiuri’s now – side and it was likely where she would remain. It was a shame, but nothing Iridian could do or say would change that. Even though he was a prince, there was still a great deal of things that were beyond his control.

Considering all that occurred, Iridian knew himself to be fortunate to be where he was. His brother could have done so much more damage to them all. Instead, all Iridian had to contend with bickering nobles with questionable loyalties, something that was hardly unusual in the game of politics. Nothing much had changed. 

And yet, Iridian wondered if there was a part of him that felt guilt at it all. He had been having visions of his brother’s ghost. It was sporadic at first. His image only appeared at the edge of his vision every few days, but now the sight was becoming more and more common, appearing to him almost every day now. Iridian had tried his best to ignore it but it grew increasingly more and more difficult with each day. Iridian had wondered if it really was his brother, returned in the flesh, but no one else had seen him. There were no stories of his brother roaming the castle, nor of his ghost haunting the hall. It had to be a sign of guilt, Iridian thought, but how would one make peace with the dead, especially when they had been estranged as they were.

There was no use thinking of such matters. Iridian had no time to contend with ghosts. He was still a prince, momentarily taking over his father’s duties. He was the grand prince of Unauwen. He could contend with a ghost, even if it wore his brother’s face.

Iridian had been composing a letter to Alianor. She had recently told him of a strange occurrence with one of her old Grey Riders. Iridian had been concerned, not just for Alianor’s safety, but with the event as a whole. Iridian was suspicious, felt there was something wrong about the whole thing, and he found himself wishing, not for the first time either, about being by her side. It wasn’t to just protect her – Iridian knew Alianor was an intelligent young woman, who was more than capable of handling herself – but it would have set his mind at ease at the very least.

“Another letter to Alianor? How dreary. You’d think she’d grown tired of your letters by now. You send so many of them, after all. Surely you don’t have that much to say to her. I know I wouldn’t,” a voice told him.

Iridian gritted his teeth, his grip on the quill tightening. He had learned from previous encounters that ignoring the apparition did not make it disappear faster. Instead, it seemed to encourage his brother to be even more vocal about his opinions. If the ghost was really a manifestation of his guilt though, Iridian knew he had to make amends, make a genuine effort to bring closure to them both. Iridian just wished his brother didn’t make it all so difficult for him.

“Yes, we’ve been exchanging correspondence for now. It’s served as a good means to inform each other of the events occurring in our lives,” Iridian informed him.

“And why would she be interested in hearing about that? She has her own kingdom to run. I doubt she has time to be interested in your petty affairs of how Lord-too-fat said something terribly disagreeable and you had to grin and bear it like always do,” his brother responded.

Iridian finished his sentence before setting the quill aside. It was unlikely he’d be able to finish the letter any time soon. “You never were interested in politics,” Iridian remarked. “Why does it interest you so much? Alianor told me about how you both met, and how you barely paid any scrap of attention to her. Why does it matter if she and I correspond?”

There was no response. Iridian wasn’t sure what to make of that. It meant either one of two outcomes. Either his brother actually cared about him and was trying to warn him against Alianor, and Iridian doubted that was it, or his brother had only mentioned it to bother him. It was likely the latter and that meant that Iridian had so much work ahead of him.

“It’s Alianor now? Not Queen Alianor? I didn’t realize the two of you had grown so close. I’m sure she likes it when you forget her title. All women liked to be belittled with their accomplishments and deeds ignored. I’m sure she loves that,” his brother retorted.

Iridian scoffed. “It’s not like that. I care for her and she cares for me. It’s not about forgetting her title or the lack of respect on my end. I know that she’s a Queen – one could hardly forget that. I care for her beyond that, beyond her title. I care for her as a person,” Iridian explained.

“I’m sure if she was just a commoner, a nobody, you would feel the same,” his brother said in reply.

Iridian sighed as he took up the quill in his hand again and began to write. He hated that his brother had a point. Alianor – Queen Alianor was a queen first and a woman second. It would do him well not to forget that. He was a Prince and heir to Unauwen. Duty and ruling would also play a role in his life no matter how much he wished it otherwise. He had liked his life for the most part. The only thing missing was someone to share it with. Was he foolish to think that he could possibly have it all? A Queen he cared for, loved, and a kingdom? It seemed too good to be true.

“No witty reply to that? I’m disappointed. Your letters to Queen Alianor are always full of wit. It seems a shame that you reserve all of your wit for  _ her _ ,” his brother told him, not without some distaste.

Of course, there was the fact that Iridian was being haunted by his brother’s ghost. Perhaps he could believe that he could have everything, and it would only cost his sanity to keep it all.

“I’m not interested in responding to your ill-disguised insults. If you want to have an honest conversation with me, I will be happy to indulge you, otherwise keep your comments to yourself,” Iridian told him.

The ghost said nothing for a time. Perhaps Iridian had found a way to shut him up after all. He decided not to question his good fortune and returned to his letter. He didn’t get far into it as he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

One of his pages, Albert, came in. “Your Highness, I hate to interrupt you, but you do have an appointment with Sir John Weir. He’s waiting for you,” Albert informed him.

“Yes, I’ll see him shortly,” Iridian told him.

Albert nodded, bowing briefly before leaving Iridian to his own devices.

Iridian took one last solemn look at the half-completed letter before rising to his feet. A prince’s duties were never done it seemed.

*

Flames had danced in front of Jaro’s eyes. It was such a small thing, really, but it meant so much more to Jaro. He felt the power in the palm of his hand, and, for the first time in his life, he felt like he was winning. Then the words would come back to him as a cruel reminder that his life was not that simple. It never was.

_ The flame for the girl. _

Jaro recalled the memory clearly now, and if he was to fully enjoy his newfound gift, then Jaro knew what he had to do, but first? First Jaro needed to see what he could do. He had managed to convince the girl to the test. Jaro had half-expected the argument about the price to come again, but it never did. It was only a matter of time, though.

Jaro and the girl had decided to target a small, but powerful guild of scum either had ever seen, the kind that no one would miss or shed a tear for in their absence. It was a task that neither Jaro even with the girl’s help could accomplish with his current set of resources, which is to say none.

The plan had been carefully planned and conceived. They had watched the safe house for a few days, watching the comings and goings of the guild members until they had managed to work out a schedule of sorts. Ideally, they would have spent more time on surveillance, but Jaro was eager to rid himself of his debt. He wouldn’t do that with destroying a safe house, but it would serve as practice for a much bigger target, Jaro reminded himself.

That’s why Jaro and the girl found themselves waiting, obscured from afar, waiting for just the right moment to strike. They both decided to distance themselves from the attack. Jaro wasn’t completely in control of his power, and, if something were to go wrong, they didn’t want to implicate themselves in the attack. The last thing either of them needed was a whole group of criminals after them for destroying their hiding place.

It wasn’t long now though. Jaro squirmed in place, making himself comfortable behind the rock he had hidden behind. The girl was giving him a look again. She often gave him looks, and this time it was the ‘are you sure about this’ look. She wasn’t exactly worried, but Jaro could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t completely confident about the plan. Jaro knew it was a risky plan if it didn’t work, but he had to grow accustomed to taking such risks. The girl, the one that Viridian wanted him to kill, would not be easy to dispose of. Jaro would have to use every dirty trick he knew to eliminate her.

The girl whistled a bird call and that’s when Jaro knew it was time, the time of night where even criminals ceased their nefarious planning and took a wink or two of sleep to carry on through the week.

Jaro took a deep breath and rose to his feet, slowly, keeping a careful eye out for anyone coming in at the last minute. He tried to recall the words the girl told him that gained him control over his gift. Just reach out and take it, he told himself and so he did. He envisioned the wooden structure burning hot and bright, smoke and fire leaping toward the sky, warming the cold night air around them, the acrid smell of smoke filling the air. When he opened his eyes, it was so.

It took only a few seconds for the night to be filled with the frightened screams of those inside, but Jaro’s job was not done yet. If anything, the real test was just beginning.

It was one thing to burn something. Anyone could do that, even a fool with a piece of flint could light a fire if he hit it just right. It was controlling the fire, controlling how hot it burned, how fast it spread, the shape it took and how long it burned – that was the real gift Jaro had.

Jaro waited until he could see the tiny figures in the distance were fleeing from the building to strike his next move. He set fire to the nearby trees, not completely engulf them but only to weaken them at the base, sending them teetering over the edge. It took a few tries for Jaro to get moving the right way, toward the flame of the structure, trapping even those who managed to flee within a square of fire of his own design.

Then came the last step. Jaro concentrated on the flame, making it burn bright and hot, rapidly damaging the structure and with a single exhale, the flame went out and the structure came tumbling down with it. It was done. Jaro was ready for the girl, feeling himself grow weak with the thought. He wasn’t sure if the feeling in his stomach was excitement or dread, possibly both, that he felt at the moment.

Jaro finally turned to face the girl, seeing a serious look in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to leave it? We could turn them in. Get some money out of them,” the girl pointed out as she eyed the burned ruins.

Jaro took one final look at the structure before turning away. “It was never about the money. We should go. There’s something I need to do. We can always come back for them after,” Jaro told her

The girl frowned, rising to her feet and walking after him. “After?” she asked. “After what?”

Jaro did not say.

*

That night Jaro found himself in the same inky blankness of the nothing from before, the place where he’d seen –  _ heard _ Viridian, where Viridian offered him his gift of flame. Jaro had half-expected the Prince to be there, congratulating him on controlling the flame, but there was nothing there that Jaro could see. There was no voice in the distance or whispering in his ear. It was the same nothingness.

Jaro waited for the Prince to say something, but he never did. He called out to the darkness and only heard his own echo talk back to him. He took to wandering then, seeing if perhaps there was something in the darkness after all. Jaro couldn’t tell how far he walked or how much time passed in the place. There was no sun there, no clouds, no moon, no sky. The darkness engulfed every bit of the place, leaving nothing untouched.

Suddenly, there was something in the distance, something Jaro had never seen before. Jaro blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes in case it was a trick of some kind, but the figure remained. Jaro couldn’t tell what it was, only that it was white. He walked toward it, his mind scrambling to think of escape plans in case it was a trap. Jaro could think of none for how does one escape a trap in a land of darkness? There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Jaro would have to face whatever waited for him on his own.

The figure, it turned out, was a building instead, an old water mill with the wheel turning and turning despite there being no water. A set of steps lead up to the mill where, at the top, a young girl with bright red hair stood. She appeared to be waiting for him.

“Jaro,” she whispered. “Jaro, come.”

Jaro found himself obeying. In order circumstances he might have questioned it all, but the place had an almost dream-like feel to it.

_ It’s a dream _ , Jaro thought to himself. What else could it be?

He walked up the steps slowly. The girl turned around, her hair whipping behind her as she dashed inside the mill.

“Hurry, Jaro. Hurry,” she called out.

Jaro, however, was in no hurry and slowly made his way up the steps, stopping at the top to watch the wheel spinning in the empty air, churning as if there was water. Jaro turned his attention away from the water and headed inside.

There wasn’t much to the mill inside either, confirming Jaro’s thoughts of the place being a part of a dream. Dreams were always unclear on the details in a way that real life never was. The inside of the mill was stark white, with only a staircase leading up. The girl poked her head out at the top of the stairs, beckoning him to come.

“You’re almost there. Come,” she called out to him again.

Jaro obeyed, taking the same measured steps as he took before, walked up the steps. The stairs led him up to another room, a strangely bright room with the same white walls as below. Instead of an empty white room, it was furnished with a table along with some wooden chairs. A bookcase decorated one wall, while a portrait took up the same of another. In the corner was a small fireplace, where a small fire was burning, keeping the room warm. Jaro had noticed how cold it was in the darkness. It was actually very cold, but now…now he felt warm, relaxed. It felt safe, familiar, like he’d been there before.

In the center of the room, a woman waited for him. She had the same vibrant red girl the girl had, pinned up neatly in a bun. Her dress was white, like the room, like the mill. The girl, the one with the bright red hair, ran to the woman, taking hold of the woman’s dress, hiding behind it.

“He finally came,” the girl explained, looking up at the woman. “It took him long enough, but he finally did. Can we start now?”

“Start what?” Jaro asked, turning to look at the woman.

The woman gestured to the table where plates, forks and knives had been set out for three. Bread, chicken and vegetables were set out on plates, steaming as if freshly cooked.

The girl ran to Jaro, taking hold of his hand, pulling him to the table. “You took too long, Jaro. What kept you?” she asked.

Jaro took a seat, the girl and woman following suit, each looking at him, waiting for his response. “I’m not sure exactly,” he admitted, “but I’m here now. You don’t have to wait anymore, not for me.”

That caused them both to smile, making Jaro feel like smiling too. He could feel his lips turning, the smile forming. He could like here, he thought to himself. It was nice. Safe. Calm. It reminded him of somewhere, but he wasn’t sure what.

“Jaro!” a voice called out.

Jaro turned to look at the girl, but she had just taken a large bite of chicken, chewing happily.

“Jaro!” the voice called again, sounding like it was coming from far away.

Jaro tried to ignore it, but a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach was trying to tell him something.

“Jaro! Jaro! Jaro!” the voice cried out, growing louder and louder with each to his name.

Jaro turned his head, searching for the source of the voice, but not seeing anyone there. He frowned, rising to his feet to look at the window, where all he could see was darkness, not a single soul to be found, and yet, the voice cried louder and louder until Jaro couldn’t take any more of it and fell to his knees, covering his ears.

“Jaro, wake up.”

And he did.

*

Iona had a lot of questions, suspicions, theories and hunches, but none of them did any good if the person she wanted answers from was being stubborn. Stupid Jaro and his stupid secrets and his stupid gift. Iona didn’t begrudge him the power. Frankly, she wasn’t sure if she would want the power of flame at her fingertips. What if she set herself on fire by accident? It was honestly safer in Jaro’s hands. Let him suffer the unforeseen consequences of his actions. Iona could live with standing by his side.

It wasn’t the powers that bothered Iona, but whatever information Jaro was hiding from her. She wasn’t stupid, and Jaro wasn’t half as clever as he thought he was. He was hiding something, and Iona was going to find out exactly what it was. It was only a matter of time. All she had to do was be patient. The only problem with that was that Iona knew time wasn’t something either had. Iona knew the gift of fire came with a price and the sooner Jaro told her about it, the sooner they could both deal with it. Iona knew Jaro was just digging himself further and further into his grave. How was Iona supposed to help if he didn’t tell her everything?

It wasn’t as if Iona was prying for the sake of prying either. They were supposed to be partners and partners told each other everything – well, everything that was important. Iona knew that Jaro didn’t exactly trust her, and that was fine because Iona didn’t trust him either, but at least she trusted him with the most basic details. Jaro couldn’t even trust her with that.

A part of her – a very small part that Iona ignored very frequently – thought about what her old friends would say about this. Not Arman, of course. Arman was an idiot most of the time and most of what he said was rubbish.

Not Jussipo either. Silly Jussipo with his even sillier songs, who was gone forever and would never sing again, she thought to herself, ignoring the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Not Foldo who could barely string together a sentence, let alone think of what to do.

Not young Piak who was too idealistic for his own good, his head too full of dreams and stories to ever realize how very different life was from songs and stories. Perhaps he knew better now with his brother dead and in the ground. It was a hard lesson to learn, but he would appreciate it all the same in time. Iona learned that lesson long ago while she was very young. She knew from a young age that life wasn’t all the romantic stories about kings and queens and noble knights where good triumphed and justice was served, not for people like her anyway.

Maybe Tiuri, who despite his incredibly foolish nature to trust whatever others told him, was noble at heart. Iona had thought him foolish before, stupid even, for trying to deliver the letter when the whole world was at his heels, hunting him down, and yet he succeeded, had managed to convince the others to help him, foiled Jaro and Iona’s efforts and saved Unauwen from a terrible threat. Perhaps noble Tiuri would know what to do, what to say.

Iona didn’t think about them, of course. They weren’t her friends and it hardly mattered what they thought. They had looked to her for guidance before as they should have because Iona was the one with answers. Iona was the one who knew what to do. Iona was the clever one. But for once, Iona wished there was someone else beside her to help. Sure, she could do everything on her own. She was clever enough and cruel enough to do it, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it alone. This was different from before. She had dreamed of becoming a knight, her way out of the eternal struggle of how to make it to the next day, and her hopes and dreams of ever becoming a knight were dashed, gone forever. It would have left a terrible ache inside of her if it hadn’t been for Jaro. She lost her knighthood, her friends, her dreams, but loss of it was made bearable by the addition of Jaro in her life. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Jaro understood her in a way the others hadn’t and never would. They didn’t understand how difficult it was to have nothing, to scratch and claw for even a scrap of something to hold. Lordlings, Jaro called them, silly little lordlings who knew nothing about struggle and pain and dreams dashed and hope lost and belonging and sacrifice.

At the end of it all, Jaro and Iona, at their core, were the same. The same burning anger and ambition fueled them both. Jaro was no hero, no knight in shining armor. He could be terribly stupid and foolish sometimes, talking when he ought not to, and standing there helplessly when he shouldn’t. Sometimes Iona couldn’t even stand the sight of him and how pathetic he could be when he was being stupid, which was often if Iona was being honest. And if Iona had to listen to that story of Prince Iridian and the stupid smirk on his face one more time…

Despite it all, Jaro was all Iona had, flaws and all. Iona wasn’t about to lose him now, especially when she finally tricked him into doing all the hard work. No, she wasn’t about to lose him, not if she could help it.

After destroying the safe house, Iona and Jaro had traveled to a nearby inn to celebrate. It was a sad celebration with Jaro pensive for once instead of his usual boasting that came with his victories. Iona had tried to coax him with drinks, ordering them in the hopes that he would be loose lipped with some beer, but he had refused to drink, probably remembering what Iona had said the other day about his drunkenness, which she now regretted. Instead, they both sat in a booth in silence.

News of the fire had broken out, but it didn’t even register with Jaro, his mind occupied with other thoughts. When it became clear that Iona was getting anything out of him – again – she headed up to the room they had rented for the night and went to bed. Her patience was running thin and Iona was tempted to beat the answers out of the man if he wasn’t forthcoming soon. She would give him a day or two, but nothing more.

It was hours until Jaro joined her. He stumbled in the dark and managed to make his way into his own bed, falling into slumber rather quickly. Iona was quick to follow suit now that Jaro wasn’t awake to disturb her.

Iona was awakened by a warm heat, warmer than the night should have been. She tossed her blankets off her, returning to bed once they were gone. The heat remained, leaving Iona sweeting in her clothes. She sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she searched for the source of the heat. Across the room, she saw Jaro, deep in sleep, lying on his back with his arm hanging off the bed, glowing a bright orange.

Iona jumped back, startled by the image. She rose from bed and approached the sleeping man. Upon closer inspection, she found that his hand wasn’t glowing, his bones were glowing from inside him, transparent through his skin, glowing with light and heat. His hand glowed, spreading from his fingers up his arm, all the while the heat was growing stronger with each passing moment. If Iona didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was on fire.

Knowing better than to touch him with her bare hands, Iona searched the room for something, finding an old belt Jaro kept his pack. She approached Jaro again, using the end of the belt to reach for him. It barely grazed his finger when it caught on fire. Iona dropped it before it could burn her. The burning belt fell on the floor, where a small series of flames emerged and quickly started to spread across the room.

The fire was spreading too quickly for Iona to stop it, already reaching the curtains, which caught on fire faster than Iona could blink, starting to reach the ceiling. No, there was hardly anything for Iona to stop the flame but flee. She turned to run but stopped mid-step, hesitating. Could Jaro survive the flames? Would they hurt him? Would they kill him? Iona didn’t know, but she wasn’t keen to find out.

“Jaro!” she cried out, running to the corner of the room and searching for something to douse the fire with.

“Jaro! Jaro!” she continued, hoping her cries would awaken him, but he didn’t stir. Meanwhile, the hot burning glow of his bones was spreading to his ribs, to his collarbone. What would happen if it spread to his head? Iona wondered to herself.

She found water in their packs, but it was scarcely enough to put out the flames, but …perhaps she didn’t need to douse all the flames.

“Jaro! Jaro! Jaro!” she cried, but the man remained still and unmoving, appearing almost dead if it weren’t for the strange glow of his bones.

Well, there was nothing for it now. Iona gathered the water packs in her arms and Jaro’s cloak, rushing back as best she could to Jaro. The flames had spread and blocked her access. Iona used the water from one pack to clear her path, but only managed to douse a small portion of the flame. She used Jaro’s cloak to beat at the flames, managing to draw them back a bit. She knew beating back the flames wouldn’t be enough.

“Jaro, wake up,” Iona called out one final time before using the water in the remaining pack to splash on Jaro’s face.

Jaro sat up in bed with a gasp, immediately clutching his glowing right hand in his arm to his chest, almost like it hurt.

“What?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Jaro, the fire! Stop the fire!” Iona told him, pointing to the still burning curtains behind them.

Jaro turned slowly, far too slowly for Iona’s liking, and stared at the flames dumbly.

“Jaro! Put it out! Put it out!” she screeched.

Jaro stared at the flames some more before finally raising his hand and extinguishing the flames with a single gesture.

Iona let out a sigh of relief, collapsing on her slightly singed bed. Jaro remained where he was, staring blankly at the wall before him like nothing had happened.

“What was that all about? Did you have a bad dream or something? Someone’s going to have to pay for this, you know, and it’s not going to be me. It’s coming out of your share, like it or not. Now tell me what it was,” Iona demanded, fixing Jaro with a stern look.

Surprisingly, Iona was met with silence. “Really? Your bones start glowing and set the room on fire while you’re sleeping, and you almost burned me alive and that doesn’t warrant an answer? You almost killed me, Jaro – almost killed the both of us and you’re not going to tell me what’s going on. I deserve an answer, Jaro,” she told him.

“I’ll pay for it. It doesn’t matter,” he said simply, the same vacant look on his face.

Iona scoffed, crossing her arms against her chest. “I think setting rooms on fire while you’re sleeping isn’t nothing. I tried to be patient, but I want answers now. Tell me what you’ve been keeping from me, about the price you must pay. I know you haven’t paid it yet. You would have told me if you had. I don’t see how keeping it from me will help so out with it. Tell me,” Iona demanded once more.

Jaro’s face scrunched up in a scowl. “I told you it doesn’t matter. Go back to bed,” he said dismissively, turning his back to her.

“Jaro-“

“Go to bed!” he said in a hard voice.

Iona sighed, her shoulders slumping. She laid down on her bed, her back to Jaro, her feet curled up against her chest. She ignored the voice in her head, the one that reminded her of what her old friends would say and do. She was Iona, she reminded herself and she didn’t need anyone before, and she certainly didn’t need anyone to help her now.

If that was the game Jaro wanted to play then that was fine. Iona knew how to play, but more importantly, she knew what she had to do to win.

*

As much as Lavinia and Arman wanted to rush off and find what answers waited for them at Jussipo’s grave, Tiuri had to be the voice of reason for once. The friends returned home to gather supplies for the long journey to Unauwen, said their goodbyes to their families before setting off.

The journey itself was unremarked in ways Tiuri hadn’t expected, perhaps because of his previous journey to Unauwen. The roads and inns were quiet, and they encountered no trouble on finding passage to Unauwen by boat. Tiuri kept looking over his shoulder, expecting Red Riders to come up rushing behind them, but there never was anyone chasing them. Tiuri wondered how long it would take to be free of those ghosts.

Lavinia kept giving Tiuri meaningful looks, which he tried to ignore. As much as he liked Lavinia, he didn’t appreciate her relentless nature at times. Despite the agreement they all made to trust Jussipo was who he said he was, Lavinia kept watching the man closely as if she expected to turn on them at any given moment. While Tiuri could understand Lavinia’s caution, he also wanted to keep the peace. He knew that Foldo and Piak were both adamant in their belief to the contrary and the group could break out into another argument over the topic, which was the last thing Tiuri wanted.

It wasn’t long before they reached the hill where they had buried Jussipo. The closer they got to the site, the more anxious Jussipo looked, enough that even Tiuri had noticed. Tiuri had ignored Lavinia’s self-righteous smile at the sight of it.

“Are you sure you’re alright to carry on, Jussipo?” Foldo asked, casting a worried look at Jussipo.

Jussipo smiled at the other man, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Of course! It’s not every day one has the luxury of visiting their own grave, where they spent an undetermined amount of time. It’s almost like an adventure when you think about it. Perfect for a –“

Arman groaned, bringing up the rear. “Not another song. You’ve already come up a dozen already,” Arman complained loudly.

Jussipo frowned. “On the contrary, my good friend, I’ve only written five songs on this journey. Two of the other songs I’ve written previously while visiting Mum. They weren’t the best, but I’m sure the next one will be even better. I know what you’re really complaining about, Arman, is my lute. What good is a song without a good instrument to sing it with? Musical accompaniment is what you want, I can see it in your eyes-“

“How about we agree to remain focused on the task we have at hand? We’re very close,” Tiuri said quickly.

Jussipo grew pale at Tiuri’s words, nodding in agreement. Foldo placed a comforting arm around Jussipo’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear. Tiuri felt a little guilt at causing his friend any sort of distress but it couldn’t be helped.

Arman shot Tiuri a grateful look while picking up speed, catching to the front where Tiuri and Lavinia were leading the others.

Even from a distance, Tiuri could already sense there was something wrong. He could hear the faint whispers he’d heard before. He hadn’t heard the whispers since the whole business with the letter had ended. Even Lavinia could feel it, casting Tiuri a worried look. Tiuri ignored the instinct to look back. They could only go forward from here.

From where they stood, Tiuri could spot a cloud of darkness in the distance. It wasn’t until they were closer that Tiuri saw it wasn’t a cloud at all but tendrils springing out of the ground like lightning, spreading over the site of Jussipo’s grave like rot. Tiuri couldn’t even see the sword and stones they’d placed on Jussipo’s grave as the ground was obscured with the growing darkness that was taking root in the ground.

The group of friends stood silently as they watched the tendrils of darkness move back and forth like a storm, struggling to say something.

“I suppose now we know why Jussipo came back,” Piak said lightly.

“The darkness brought him back, but we already knew that. Whose idea was it to come here again?” Arman asked.

“Yours,” Jussipo reminded him with a grin.

Arman’s face fell. “Oh, right. Well, I don’t see anyone else coming up with any better ideas,” Arman said defensively, crossing his arms against his chest.

“We aren’t saying it wasn’t a good idea,” Tiuri added diplomatically, “just that we don’t know what to do with…” Tiuri gestured vaguely to the ground. “…this.”

“It made sense before, didn’t it? I thought if we came here, we might find something out, that there would be a clue or a sign of some greater evil afoot,” Arman told them.

They all continued to stare at the darkness like looking at it would bring any answers. It didn’t.

“Well, maybe if we get closer, we can see something?” Foldo suggested.

They all remained rooted to the spot, staring.

Before any one of them could do anything, Jussipo pulled away from Foldo’s grip and, with a deep breath, walked toward the darkness.

“Jussipo, no!” Foldo cried out, reaching out for him.

Jussipo continued walking forward, ignoring Foldo and Piak’s cries to return. The group of friends could only watch as he walked toward the darkness and was engulfed by it entirely. They all waited with bated breath and exhaled in relief when Jussipo returned unharmed all the while he carried something in his arms.

“You didn’t tell me this was where my lute was! I was wondering where it went,” Jussipo told them.

It was indeed the lute Jussipo had so proudly carried before, looking a little worse for the wear. They all had all decided it was best the lute was buried with Jussipo and so it remained…until now. The lute was covered in dirt, and it appeared that some tendrils of darkness clung to it, reaching out intermittently from it.

“Jussipo, perhaps it would be for the best if you left that where you found it,” Foldo suggested softly.

Jussipo looked up at him completely horrified. “Leave my lute abandoned in the ground in the middle of nowhere? Need I remind you that it cost me nine crowns? Nine crowns, Foldo! I’m not leaving it just anywhere. Although,” he added with a grimace, “it could use a bit of cleaning. Would it have killed any of you to take better care of it when you buried it? It’s going to take forever to clean it out.”

“Jussipo,” Foldo warned him, a fond look on his face.

“Jussipo, your hands!” Piak cried out, pointing to his face.

They all turned to look and saw Jussipo’s fingers turning black, the darkness spreading to his hands slowly.

“Jussipo,” Foldo said, approaching him carefully, “let go of the lute.”

“But I just found it!” Jussipo cried out, pouting. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine, really,” he added with a wan smile.

Foldo approached Jussipo slowly, reaching out for the lute. “Just let it go, Jussipo. We’ll find you another lute, I promise,” Foldo told him.

“Not one like this! This one’s special. It has…memories attached to it,” Jussipo explained softly.

Foldo’s face softened at the words before he reached for the lute. Before he could take it, rays of darkness burst out, stretching out to reach all of them, sending them all flying back.

Tiuri landed on his back with a heavy thud. He scanned his surroundings quickly, trying to see if everyone made it alright. They were all in a similar state, groaning with pain but otherwise unarmed. Tiuri groaned as he tried to rise to his feet before another wave of darkness hit them, sending them all flying back once more.

“We have to…get away,” Tiuri told them through gritted teeth. He managed to flop onto his stomach, but that didn’t buy him enough time to rise to his feet before being hit with another wave of darkness.

“What a genius idea, Tiuri. I wonder why…I didn’t think of that,” Arman said sarcastically.

Tiuri ignored him as he tried to crawl away before being blasted again. Then he tried to spot Lavinia, who was sprawled out a few feet across from him. It took three interludes before Tiuri managed to make his way to Lavinia, taking a hold of her hand in his own. Lavinia gave him a grateful look as he managed to drag them both behind a rock, saving them from the worst of the blasts. Glancing around, Tiuri could see the others had managed to seek similar shelter.

“What do we do now? We can’t just leave it like this!” Tiuri told her.

Lavinia bit her lips, glancing nervously at the darkness. “I have to stop it. There’s no way around it,” Lavinia told him.

“But how? You don’t know how to do it,” Tiuri reminded her.

Lavinia smiled at him. “Well, I always did work well under pressure,” she told him.

“And you don’t have to do it alone,” Tiuri said in turn, keeping a firm grip on her hand.

Lavinia took a deep breath before leaving the shelter of the rock, Tiuri at her side. When the next wave hit them, Lavinia stood proud, shining bright with light like she had done in the castle all those months ago. The darkness reared back, diminishing with each step they took. At the center of the darkness was the lute, lying abandoned on the ground as the others were forced to retreat. Lavinia reached out and took the lute in her hand. The darkness had receded all the way to inside the lute, but the final bit of darkness was offering some resistance. Lavinia held her hand over it for some time before the final tendril disappeared.

Then she turned her attention to the grave. The darkness that emanated from the grave was different, stronger, larger, seeping into ground.

“Perhaps we can take a break now that-“

“No breaks. We do this now,” Lavinia told him with a determined look in her eye. Tiuri knew there was no stopping her, nodded, his heart bursting with pride over her words. This is why he loved her so much.

Together they made their way to the grave. The darkness send out waves of darkness toward them. Lavinia held out her hand before them, making them disappear before they ever reached them. The center of the darkness was naturally in Jussipo’s grave itself. Now that Lavinia had dispersed most of the darkness, Tiuri could see dirt scattered around the site, along with the stones they’d used to cover the grave. In a pile of dirt, Tiuri could see a glint of the pommel of a sword rising from the ground. Tiuri avoided looking at the pit itself, reminded all too well of why it was there. Jussipo had returned, yes, but it didn’t mean that site didn’t hold sad memories for him.

Lavinia extended her hand, casting a bright light around them, engulfing Tiuri’s entire line of sight, almost blinding them. When he blinked, adjusting to the light, the darkness was gone, leaving them standing next to an ordinary grave.

“You did well,” Tiuri told her, unable to hide the proud smile on his face. Words couldn’t explain all he felt for her. How was he so fortunate to have such a person in his life?

Lavinia scoffed. “Of course. Were you expecting anything else?” she said, her cheeks pink, a smile on her face.

Tiuri turned away from her gaze, feeling himself redden at the attention. “Ahem, we should go check to see if the others are alright,” he managed to say at last.

Hands clasped together, Tiuri and Lavinia made their way to the others, who were slowly emerging from their hiding spots, congregating at the site where the lute was. It looked undamaged by the darkness and the fall.

“Jussipo, I missed you like crazy when you were dead, and I say this with all the love I hold for you in my heart, but, please, don’t ever do anything stupid like that again,” Arman told him.

Jussipo looked sadly down to where his lute lay on the ground. “I didn’t think that would happen. I thought I could control it. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. That’s the last thing I want.”

Lavinia whipped her head around, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What do you mean you thought you could control it? Is there something you’re not telling us, Jussipo?” Lavinia asked.

They all turned at once to face the other man.

Jussipo guiltily looked away, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“What did you mean by that, Jussipo?” Foldo asked softly.

“There’s something you kept from us, isn’t there? I thought we weren’t going to keep secrets from each other! How are we supposed to help you, Jussipo, if you don’t tell us everything!” Arman shouted.

“I’m sure it’s not what it seems,” Tiuri told them, trying to keep the peace. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

Jussipo sighed, took a deep breath and squared off his shoulders. “I told you the truth. There were just parts I left out.”

“Jussipo…” Foldo said with a sigh.

“I know! I just,” Jussipo turned to address Foldo, “I just knew you’d worry. You and pipsqueak have been fussing over me ever since I came back. I just didn’t want you to worry even more than you already were.”

“Start at the beginning then,” Arman told him, walking over to stand between Foldo and Jussipo. “Tell us everything this time.”

Piak jumped between Arman and Jussipo, standing defiantly before him. “Jussipo doesn’t have to explain anything! We all agreed that there was nothing wrong with him. I can’t believe you would all go back on your word. Some knights you lot all are!” he exclaimed angrily.

Jussipo placed his hands on Piak’s shoulders, gently guiding him to the side. “It’s alright, Piak. I knew this moment was coming. I was just delaying the inevitable. Once I explain, you’ll see what I mean. The others mean well. Don’t hold it against them,” Jussipo told him.

“That’s why you didn’t want to come back here, isn’t it? You knew the darkness was here,” Lavinia asked, eyeing him carefully.

Jussipo nodded. “I did-“

“Now you’ll tell us the truth? The whole truth? No leaving anything out, right?” Arman asked, giving Jussipo a stern look.

“I promise,” Jussipo told them with a wan smile. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly before beginning. “I did wake up in my grave like I said I did…only I felt something in there with me, the darkness. I felt it all around me, and then it was inside of me and then I woke up in front of that tavern where I met you all. Honest,” he added upon seeing the skeptical look on Arman’s face. “I promise. That’s all that happened.”

Lavinia frowned, her brow furrowed in thought. “Then why didn’t you want to come back here? We all knew that the darkness brought you back. The darkness at your grave confirms it. It doesn’t change anything,” she argued.

Jussipo shook his head sadly. “The darkness brought me back, yes, but it’s also the only thing keeping me alive. It’s still inside me. I can feel it all the time, whispering to me, telling me things. Can’t you see? The darkness is more dangerous than we thought! We were standing next to it and it just attacked us! That’s what’s inside of me. I thought that maybe if I stayed away from it, it would be fine, but…” Jussipo let out a bitter laugh. “I was only fooling myself. I can’t control the darkness. It controls me and there’s nothing I can do about it. I knew that coming here would confirm it, would make you all realize that it was too dangerous, and I would have to go.”

Foldo’s face paled at the other man’s words, realizing what he meant. “No, Jussipo, no, you don’t mean-“

Jussipo, ignoring Foldo’s protests, turned to face Lavinia, a determined look in his eyes. “I want you to do whatever it is you did to make the darkness go away,” he told her.

Lavinia’s eyes widened in surprise. “If the darkness is the only thing keeping you alive, you’d die,” Lavinia told him.

Jussipo nodded. “I know, but it has to be done. I was wrong to think otherwise. We all know it’s the right thing to do, what a true knight would do. A true knight stands for everything that’s good in the world, a champion for good and defender against injustice and evil, and sometimes that means making a difficult choice, sacrificing one’s self for the greater good. It would be wrong of me to shirk my duty and pretend otherwise,” he solemnly declared.

Piak threw himself at Jussipo, wrapping his arms around him. “No! No! I just got you back. You can’t leave already!” Piak cried.

Jussipo gently pulled Piak’s arms away, kneeling so the two were at eye level. “Piak, I’ve never asked you for anything, but I’m asking you now. You think you can do just one little thing for me?”

“No! I’m not doing anything for you. You’re my big brother. You’re supposed to watch out for me. It’s the duty of big brothers everywhere and you’re not doing what you’re supposed to,” Piak said stubbornly.

“Piak,” Foldo said softly, walking over and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Piak sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Fine, but I won’t like it, not one bit!”

Jussipo chuckled. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. I need you to promise me you’ll be brave, alright? Be brave for me. I know that’s a lot to ask for, but this is difficult enough as it is. Can you do that for me?” Jussipo asked.

Piak just nodded, his eyes filling with unshed tears. “I promise, even if it’s not fair. It’s not fair that you must die again. You were – are a good person. Why does doing the right thing mean you have to die? It’s not fair,” he protested.

“I know, but life isn’t fair, pipsqueak, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t good people in the world. If anything, it’s unfair that I get to come back. There are so many people out there who die far from home, unable to tell their loved ones goodbye, and I got to do that, got to say goodbye. And we had a good time of it with mum and Foldo, didn’t we? I got a few weeks to life and they were the best of my life. I get to die happy knowing that my little brother is a knight and that he’ll be alright. There’s nothing more I could have asked for,” Jussipo told him with a proud smile on his face.

Piak sniffed, looking up at Jussipo sadly. “I know. I just wished we had more time. You can’t blame me for wanting that, at least,” he told him.

“I know. Promise me you’ll look after Mum and Father, that you’ll be the best knight you can be. Promise me, Piak,” Jussipo said.

Piak nodded. “I promise.”

“Good,” Jussipo said with a smile. “Now let me talk to the others.”

Piak rolled his eyes. “We all know who you really want to talk to,” Piak teased with a sad smile.

The brothers rose to their feet, embracing for one final time before pulling away. Jussipo turned to face Foldo and everyone knew what that meant. Tiuri put his arm around Lavinia, pulling her around so their backs were the couple. It wasn’t much, but it was all they could do at the moment. They were still close enough that Tiuri could still hear everything they said.

“Thank you for everything, Foldo, I mean it. I know we didn’t have enough time together. I wish we did, but I wouldn’t trade what little we had for anything in the world. I was fortunate to know you and have you in my life. I-I love you, Foldo. You’re the best person in the whole world and I hope you’ll always remember that,” Jussipo told him.

“I know. I love you, too. I-I wish I knew what to say,” Foldo said so sadly that it made even Tiuri feel guilty for listening in.

“It’s fine. I know you well enough to know what you want to say. You don’t have to say anything at all, but in case you do, I’ll wait. We have a little time. I’m sure the others won’t mind much. Arman might mind a little, but frankly I think Arman could learn a lesson in learning how to be patient so we’ll really be helping him by making him wait,” Jussipo told him.

“I-“ Foldo let out a sad laugh. “What am I going to do without you, Jussipo?”

“You’ll live,” Jussipo said simply as if it were obvious, “and you’ll have wonderful adventures in wonderous lands, and you’ll be the noblest, bravest knight that ever lived.”

“But I don’t want to do any of that without you,” Foldo told him.

“I know, but you’ll have to. I won’t be gone, not completely. I’ll be watching from wherever people go when they die. I promise you, so you better go out and live to the fullest, you hear me? Otherwise I will have to haunt you until you do. Promise me that, won’t you, Fol? Live life to the fullest for yourself and for me, do everything I never will be able to do,” Jussipo told him.

After a brief pause, Tiuri could hear Foldo’s soft voice make the promise.

“Are you done now?” Arman asked in the distance. “It kind of sounds like you are.”

“Arman, you’re next, friend,” Jussipo said cheerfully.

Tiuri took that as a sign that it was safe to return to the group. Tiuri pulled Lavinia along as they joined the others.

“Great. I can’t wait for the insults. Come on. I’m ready for them,” Arman said, arms crossed against his chest.

“You were always an ass,” Jussipo started.

Arman scoffed. “Ha!”

“But you’re less of an ass now,” he continued, “and you’re a good friend. You’ll make a good Lord Fantamur, but that’s not saying much considering who your father was. Jokes aside, you’ll be great. I know it.”

Arman looked a bit taken back by the sincerity in the other man’s words. “You mean it? Truly?”

Jussipo smiled a grin that was all teeth. “Yes, now don’t make me regret it.”

He then turned to face Tiuri, surprising him in the process. Tiuri and Jussipo hadn’t spent much time together, and they weren’t the closest of friends. It hadn’t meant that Tiuri hadn’t felt sad at his death. If anything, Tiuri had felt it was all his fault his friend had died. If Tiuri hadn’t found the letter, none of the previous months would have occurred. Jussipo would have spent the night in the chapel, becoming a knight and would be alive and well in Dagonaut with his brother. It had taken Lavinia days to convince Tiuri not to blame himself. Still, it surprised him that Jussipo would have something to say to him.

“I have to admit, Tiuri, that you weren’t the person I was expecting when we first met. But you’ve turned out the most noble of us all, showing us – showing me what a true knight was. You’re a good person and a good friend. I only wish I got more time to get to know you better,” Jussipo told him honestly.

“I-I-“ Tiuri wasn’t sure what to say, caught off-guard by the compliment. “Thanks,” he said at last, feeling he should at least mention that.

Jussipo turned his attention to Lavinia. “Ah, dearest fairest Lavinia, what would our Tiuri do without you?”

Tiuri had expected a groan from Lavinia but was surprised to find Lavinia looking strangely pensive and sad, sadder than Tiuri had ever seen her.

“I can’t say I’m not glad I met you. You’re a wonder to behold, in more ways than one. I only hope you’ll take good care of Tiuri. Frankly, we both know he needs it. He’s hopeless without you. But seriously, you’re a special person and I’m fortunate to have crossed your path and gained a friend in the process. Take care of yourself, Lavinia. I know you and Tiuri will do great deeds, become legends and the stuff of songs,” Jussipo told her.

Tiuri continued to watch Lavinia’s face for her reaction, finding her growing more and more closed off with each word Jussipo said.

“I’m ready now. Do your light magic,” Jussipo told her, standing up straight, holding out his hand for Lavinia to grab.

Lavinia just stared at it, staring at Jussipo as if he were terribly diseased, and then, suddenly, her brows furrowed in anger. “No! I can’t!” she cried.

Jussipo jumped back, eyes widening in surprise. “But I’m ready. I won’t begrudge you for it if that's what you're worried about,” he assured her, taking a step forward, hand still held out for her to hold.

Lavinia took two steps back, shaking her head. “I said no!”

“Lavinia, please,” Jussipo pleaded, his façade fading, “do it now before I do something I regret. It was terrible enough to say goodbye to everyone once. Don’t make me do it again. Please, just do what you must.”

Lavinia clenched her fists, looking Jussipo in the eye. “I said no, and I meant it! What’s the point of taking the darkness away from you? It’s clear that someone out there has a plan for you, taking the darkness away from you won’t change that. Who’s to say they won’t bring you again and again until you’ve done what you’re meant to do as Tiuri’s mother said? Taking away the darkness inside of you won’t stop the darkness so there’s no point really, and I don’t care what anyone else says about it. I won’t do it and you don’t ask me to do it because I won’t!” she declared loudly.

With that said, Lavinia stormed off in the opposite direction. They all stared after her, stupefied and bewildered by her words. And then they turned to Tiuri for answers. Naturally.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Tiuri told them.

Lavinia had managed to make her way down the hill, close to the coastline. From where they stood, they look out and see the sea, the waves splashing against the rocks on the beach. Lavinia was sitting on the grass, looking despondently at the sight before her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Tiuri told her, taking a seat beside her.

“I can’t do it, Tiuri. I just can’t. Don’t ask me to do it because I won’t and I can’t,” Lavinia told him firmly, her lip trembling as she spoke.

Tiuri frowned. He couldn’t understand why Lavinia was so upset. Well, he could think of a few reasons, but it didn’t explain the severity of Lavinia’s response to everything. Lavinia had hardly known Jussipo. Tiuri didn’t think she’d be so torn up over him dying again.

“Is it because of your powers?” Tiuri asked. “Are you feeling overwhelmed by what everyone’s expecting from you?”

Lavinia sniffed. “No, it’s not that at all. Men,” she said with a scoff, “they hardly know anything at all.”

“Then what is it? Is it because you don’t want to do it alone?” he asked, scolding himself for not having thought of it sooner. Tiuri had promised Lavinia she wouldn’t have to do it all alone and he had just stood there, failing to live up to his promise. “I’ll be there. I’m sorry that I wasn’t. I was just caught off-guard by everything, but I’ll try harder. I promise. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“That’s not it either!” Lavinia exclaimed, looking more distressed than before.

“I don’t understand,” Tiuri confessed.

“It’s because of you, Tiuri,” Lavinia explained.

Tiuri looked up at her in surprise. “Me? What did I do?”

“You and the others, I mean. You think I didn’t notice how you were all looking at him? Like you were losing him all over again, and I was the one that was supposed to kill him?”

“Well, you aren’t exactly killing him, Lavinia. He’s dead. He died already and he’s supposed to be dead. You’d just be taking the darkness from him,” Tiuri corrected.

“Which will kill him,” Lavinia added angrily. She sighed, pulling at a loose thread of her dress. “Killing someone – that’s something I’ve never done before. Defeating Prince Viridian, that was different. I just glowed and he went away. I didn’t know it would kill him, but it did, and now? Now I know what’s going to happen. If I take away the darkness, I’ll be killing Jussipo. Jussipo, who Piak adores. Jussipo, who Foldo loves. Jussipo, who teases Arman and brings him down to our level. Jussipo, your friend, Tiuri. I’ll be the one responsible for him dying all over again. Tell me that you won’t all look at me differently or treat me differently because of it.”

“I-I.” Tiuri hadn’t thought of that. He had never imagined that Lavinia’s hesitation came from a place of love rather than fear. He had thought Lavinia was just afraid of using her powers, afraid of the responsibility. He never once conceived that she wouldn’t want to do it because of how Tiuri and the others felt about it. It was…considerate and thoughtful, kind.

Tiuri smiled at her, reaching out and taking his hand in his own. Lavinia stopped playing with the edge of her dress and looked up at him, tears in her eyes, looking at him like she was afraid he would hate her.

“Tell me that wouldn’t change how you feel about me. I’d certainly feel different if the situation were reversed. I know you’ll argue otherwise but you know it’s true. The others might resent me, even hate me for it. I don’t want that,” she said softly, returning to look back at the sun shining before them. “I finally have friends, people my age who like me for me, and now I’m placed in this terrible situation and have to make a terrible choice that will make them hate me. Do you see why I refused? I lose either way.” She sobbed into her hands.

Tiuri wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “I understand. I won’t hate you. I promise I won’t,” Tiuri told her, then he hesitated, wondering if he was making the right decision. He looked at the girl – young woman – sitting next to him, crying because she thought she had to do something terrible that she believed everyone would hate her for. He never wanted her to feel that way again, not if he could help it, and with that thought in mind, he knew he made the right choice.

“You don’t have to do it,” he said softly.

Lavinia pulled her hands away from her way. “Really?” she asked with a sniff.

“Really. We’ll think of another way, something we could all live with,” Tiuri told her.

“Truly?” she asked again, like she was afraid she hadn’t heard correctly the first time.

“Yes,” he assured her as he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

Lavinia took it and wiped her face with it. “I’m right, you know, about it all. Whoever is behind this can probably bring him back again. It’s pointless to try until we’ve found the source responsible for all the darkness,” she reminded him.

“You’re right, of course,” Tiuri said smiling.

Lavinia scoffed, looking more like her old, confident self. “Of course, I am. What would you do without me?” she asked with a wan smile.

“Not sure,” Tiuri admitted. He coughed before rising to his feet, holding out his hand for Lavinia to take. “Let’s talk to the others. They’ll want to know what we’ve decided.”

Lavinia took his hand and pulled herself to her feet, wiping her dress. “You do realize you’re never seeing that handkerchief again, right?” Lavinia told him.

Tiuri chuckled as he held Lavinia’s hand. “I figured as much. I’m sure it’ll make its way to a good home.”

“That’s for sure. It’ll be safer with me, you’ll see,” Lavinia retorted with a smirk.

“Sure,” Tiuri said.

The two made their way back up the hill, finding the incline a bit of a struggle, but managing to make it over without falling once. The others were huddled together, looking worried.

Lavinia cast a guilty look at Tiuri, looking slightly abashed at causing the others to worry.

They all closed in around them as they saw the pair approach.

“Well?” Arman asked, looking at Lavinia and Tiuri expectantly.

Lavinia gave Tiuri a look, her grip on his hand tightening. Tiuri sighed and turned to address the others. “We’ve discussed it and came to the conclusion that it would be best to try to find the source of the darkness before addressing anything else,” Tiuri told them vaguely.

“What does that mean exactly?” Jussipo asked, looking back and forth between Lavinia and Tiuri nervously.

“It means we’re going to look for where the darkness comes from. It’s more important to find the source of the darkness and prevent it from spreading. Everything else can wait,” Tiuri said, hoping that would be the end of the issue. It wasn’t.

“But I could do something terrible! The darkness could make me hurt you!” Jussipo pointed out.

“That’s a risk we’re all willing to take. We’ll deal with it when and if it happens and not before. And we’ll find a way to rid you of the darkness without killing you. We don’t know how yet but we will,” Tiuri informed them.

“But-“

“And that’s all we’re going to say on the matter. We should focus our attention on finding the source of darkness. We’re running out of time,” Tiuri told them as sternly as he could. He certainly didn’t possess the steel that his father had, nor Lavinia’s sheer stubborn will. Tiuri wasn’t sure if the others would really listen to him. He knew they looked up to him after everything that has transpired, but he still found himself questioning it. He wasn’t accustomed to others looking up to him for answers, like he was someone important. 

Jussipo still looked unconvinced about it but didn’t argue otherwise. Piak and Foldo both looked relieved, while Arman looked troubled. Tiuri knew there would probably be another discussion about it another day, possibly another argument, but they would have to deal with it then.

“So does anyone have any theories about where the darkness could come from? Do we really think it’s a person? What if it’s just a blanket of darkness that’s come over everything with no mind, no consciousness, nothing controlling it?” Piak suggested.

The thought troubled Tiuri. A darkness without a master would be a difficult problem to overcome. Where would they even start with something like that?

“I think it’s the Prince – the one from before. He’s the one behind it,” Jussipo told them.

“Are you sure?” Foldo asked.

Jussipo shrugged. “Not entirely. I’ve been hearing voices, and feeling something, but it’s not like it’s a specific person or a specific voice,” he explained.

“Then how can we be sure that it’s him?” Arman pointed out.

“We can’t,” Jussipo said simply.

“Great, that means we’ve come all this way and we still have no idea how to fix anything. So much for the danger knights,” Arman told them.

“We don’t have any other leads,” Foldo pointed out, “and we’re close to Unauwen. We might as well go in and see if anything is amiss.”

“He makes a good point,” Arman said, looking slightly impressed.

“I resent that. Foldo has amazing ideas,” Jussipo told them.

Arman rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll think of a wonderful song that will highlight Foldo’s amazing wit and numerous skills,” he said in reply.

“We could talk to Prince Iridian or King Favian,” Tiuri added, trying to steer the conversation away from another argument. “They would know Prince Viridian best. If Prince Viridian truly is behind it all, they’d know what he’d try to do, where he’d try to hide.”

“Wasn’t Prince Viridian trying to take the throne from his father?” Lavinia asked. “If that’s the case, if he were really back, he would likely try again. We should see if we spot anything suspicious.”

“I think that means we have a plan then,” Tiuri said.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Tiuri. We thought we had a plan before we came here and look at how that turned out,” Arman reminded him.

“Yes, but now we have a new one so everything is looking better than it was before,” Jussipo said cheerfully.

They all looked up at Unauwen castle standing, looming almost, in the distance. They had a lead. All they had to do was find him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest and say I've reached a point where motivation is at a all time low to finish. I'll do my best to finish for all three of you that are still reading but no promises.


	5. Stop Pretending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang finds a surprise at Unauwen. Jabroot and Jaro get visits from old friends. Jussipo descends into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally read the book (it has been a revelation) so that's where Slither and Sir Edwinem come from for anyone wondering. I'm not the type of person who would willingly name a character Slither. Anywho, enjoy!

It was fortunate that Jussipo’s grave was not far from the royal palace of Unauwen as it was now a short walk to where they needed to go. Even in the distance, Tiuri could see it was a beautiful castle, something no one in the group got to appreciate much the last time they were there.

“At least we don’t have to sneak in through the sewers this time,” Piak said cheerfully.

Arman groaned. “Don’t remind me,” he said with a scowl.

Lavinia raised a brow in surprise. “You came through the sewers?” Lavinia asked and then burst out laughing.

“It wasn’t very funny in the moment,” Tiuri protested, wishing the subject had been left unsaid.

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Lavinia said with a smirk. Tiuri knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of that for quite some time to come.

“But it makes for a great story, doesn’t it?” Piak argued. “Mum had a good laugh about it when I told her.”

All conversation ended when they approached the castle gates. Tiuri hadn’t seen them properly the last time. It loomed, almost imposingly, high above them. Guards patrolled the entrance, eyeing travelers and inspecting their wares and carts for anything suspicious. There weren’t many travelers entering the castle at the time.

“Do you think we’ll be able to see Prince Iridian or the King today?” Tiuri asked them, glancing back at the sun in the west. It was still light out but heading closer toward evening now.

Arman scoffed. “Of course, we will. We’ve gone and saved all their behinds the last time we were here. The least they could do is to let us in to ask our questions,” Arman argued.

“We?” Lavinia asked, eyeing Arman with her arms crossed against her chest.

“Yes, we. We all helped even if you weren’t personally there to witness it all,” he retorted, looking back at her defiantly.

Lavinia scoffed, but turned her gaze away, letting the matter go for the moment.

“Come on. We should hurry. I know we’ve done a lot for them, but it wouldn’t hurt not to be courteous,” Tiuri argued.

They all begrudgingly agreed with him and made their way through the castle gates. Tiuri had almost expected something to happen there, but nothing did. The guards asked them about their business in the castle and they were allowed through the gates with no fuss. It was all so strange to Tiuri. It was only a few months ago that everyone was after him, suspecting him for a thief and murderer, and here he was, walking with his head held high through the city gates, business with the king once more.

The group made their way through the square until they reached the main entrance to the castle, where the grand doors were shut, flanked by castle guards.

“Pardon me, sire, but we have business with the King. It’s of utmost importance that we speak with him immediately,” Tiuri told them.

“Haven’t you heard?” the guard asked.

Tiuri exchanged a puzzled look with his friends.

“Heard what exactly?” Arman asked the guard.

“His Grace has grown ill. He hasn’t been seeing visitors for weeks and likely won’t see anyone any time soon,” the guard informed them.

Tiuri frowned, exchanging a worried look with Lavinia. That didn’t exactly bode well for them.

“What about Prince Iridian?” Lavinia asked. “We will be happy to speak with him.”

The guard shook his head. “I’m afraid His Highness left some days ago to attend some business in the southern provinces. He won’t be back for some time, but if the matter is as urgent as you say, I’m sure the King’s advisor will be happy to hear your concerns,” the guard told them.

Tiuri hesitated. “Give us one moment,” he said as he stepped back to speak with his friends.

“Great! The King’s sick and the Prince is hundreds of miles away. We came all this way for nothing,” Arman grumbled.

“Should we go in and see the King’s advisor? He might be able to tell us something. Perhaps he knew Prince Viridian while he grew up and would be able to tell us about what he was like,” Foldo suggested.

“Or he might know nothing about it all and we will have come for nothing,” Arman argued.

Tiuri turned to Lavinia. “Lavinia? What are your thoughts on this?” he asked, knowing that she likely had thoughts on the matter.

Lavinia bit her lip, eyes downcast as she thought. “We might as well see the King’s advisor while we’re here. Perhaps he could tell us where Prince Iridian went or some other strange occurrences. Anything we learn could be valuable in defeating the darkness,” she told them,

Tiuri nodded. “Is everyone in agreement?” he asked as he turned to the others, who all voiced their agreement while Arman grumbled.

Tiuri turned to the guard again. “We’ll be grateful to you, sire, if you could speak to the King’s advisor and relay our request for an audience.”

The guard nodded. “Wait here a moment,” he told them as he walked over to his fellow guardsman. He returned shortly and the long, wooden doors opened behind him.

“Follow me,” the guard told them as he walked brusquely down a set of long hallways. Tiuri had to half-walk, half-jog to keep up with the man. When he glanced back at his friends, he could see they had similar trouble keeping up with the man with poor Piak bringing up the rear.

They had almost reached where Tiuri remembered the main hall was when they were stopped by a knight in black armor, wearing a white shield. The sight almost startled Tiuri at first, thinking that it was the Knight with the White Shield until Tiuri remembered from his last visit to Unauwen. There had been so many knights wearing black armor, which Tiuri had discovered, was made popular by the Black Knight with the White Shield. White was the traditional color for a shield in Unauwen, as it symbolized the knight’s service to the kingdom of Unauwen. While Tiuri knew this was not  _ the _ Knight with the White Shield, it still brought back the memory of the man.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” the knight asked, his voice muffled by his helm. Despite the armor, there was something familiar about the man, something that Tiuri couldn’t quite pinpoint at the moment.

“These visitors have important business with the king and have agreed to meet the King’s advisor in his stead,” the guard explained as he gestured to Tiuri and the others.

“I see,” the knight said, turning his gaze over to others and then stopping when he reached Tiuri, staring at him for what seemed to be an uncomfortably long time. Perhaps not everything had changed from when Tiuri was last here. He certainly had not missed the suspicious looks people gave him while he was on the run with a bounty on his head. He didn’t know what would warrant such a look now though. Tiuri’s reputation was everything he had ever wished to be and more.

“Sir Edwinem? Is everything alright?” the guard asked, looking back at Tiuri, inspecting him now.

“Yes, everything is fine. I’ll see the visitors now. You can return to your duties,” Sir Edwinem said, finally turning his gaze away from Tiuri.

The guard nodded, taking his leave and leaving them alone with the knight. He turned and gestured for the group to follow him.

“Come with me. I’ll take you to the King’s advisor. He has a tendency of rambling so I would recommend going straight to the point with him,” Sir Edwinem advised them.

“We’ll be sure to do that. Thank you,” Tiuri said, glancing back to look at the others, who all shared similar looks of puzzlement. Arman and Lavinia’s faces were narrowed in suspicion as if they both thought the knight was up to some nefarious plot. Lavinia had taken to standing by Tiuri’s side, linking her arm with his as she stared at the man through his armor, as if her gaze alone could penetrate it.

Tiuri didn’t even have to speak with her to know what she thought. He was a hero and he would do well to remember that he didn’t deserve to be treated with disrespect or suspicion. He had long since proven himself to be of good character and should not be treated like he was a common criminal. While Tiuri agreed with the sentiment, he didn’t feel as strongly about it as Lavinia did. He still thought of himself as a young man training to be a knight, desperate for his father’s approval. He had to remind himself that he was a knight now and an important one at that.

“So, Sir Tiuri, what have you been up to? It has been a long time since we saw each other last and don’t leave anything out. Many people have told me of your adventures, but there’s something about hearing a man’s exploits from his own mouth. Some stories can become quite grand once they travel a bit and I suspect you’re far more honest than most. It would be nice to hear what’s true and what’s gotten distorted beyond recognition,” the knight said casually, almost as if they were old friends.

Tiuri stopped in his tracks, causing Lavinia to almost fall over by the abruptness of it. Arman bumped into him from behind, causing them all to veer forward before they regained their balance.

“Do you know this man, Tiuri?” Lavinia asked, looking up at the knight and scrutinizing him.

The knight stopped too and turned around to face them. “He knows,” the knight told them, “Let’s just see if he remembers. It wasn’t long ago – at least so I’ve been told – but it was a short meeting, albeit a memorable one.”

The voice – that was familiar to him, now that Tiuri had cause to listen closely to it. He remembered the gravel of the man’s voice, recalled the feel of a warm fire on a dark night, the smell of willow trees strong in the air, as he listened to his final words.

“It’s you – you’re him! The Knight with the White Shield! But how?” Tiuri exclaimed.

“Sir Edwinem,” Foldo supplied softly from behind them.

The knight – Sir Edwinem - chuckled as he removed his helm and shook his hair loose. He was precisely as Tiuri remembered him: tall, broad of shoulder with dark hair, and dark eyes that sparkled with just a hint of mischief.

“I was wondering if you remembered. It was a very brief introduction, one that I don’t recall fondly, but I had a feeling you might remember,” he teased with a warm smile.

“But you’re dead! You died, hundreds of miles away. How are you here, now? Standing before us in the flesh?” Piak asked, his voice full of wonder. Tiuri could easily imagine Piak’s eyes widening in awe as he took in the sight of  _ the _ Black Knight with the White Shield.

The warm smile faded from the knight’s lips, his expression growing more serious. “Ah, yes, that. I suspect the reason you’re here and the reason I was brought back are one and the same,” he said.

“The darkness,” Lavinia said, the suspicion gone from her eyes.

Sir Edwinem looked down at her, frowning. “I believe we haven’t met. I am Sir Edwinem, the famous Black Knight with the White Shield. And you must be the equally famous, Lady Lavinia,” he said, extending out his hand for her to shake.

“I’m no Lady,” Lavinia told him, reaching out and shaking the knight’s hand quickly before releasing it.

“These are my friends,” Tiuri said quickly, scolding himself for forgetting his manners. “Arman, Foldo, Jussipo and Piak. They helped me to deliver the letter to the king,” Tiuri told him, gesturing to his friends behind him.

Sir Edwinem greeted the others individually, before casting his eyes suspiciously around them. “We should speak somewhere more private,” he told them before leading them to a room off to the side, almost to the shadows.

Once the group had made their way inside, Sir Edwinem closed the door behind them. The room was small and sparsely furnished with only a table and few chairs. Tiuri offered Lavinia a seat but she shook her firmly in denial. They all chose to remain standing. Sir Edwinem inspected the room briefly before turning his attention to them once more.

“You know about the darkness then?” Lavinia asked.

“Yes,” he answered, his expression turning troubled. “I’ve felt it since my return. I found myself in the forest where I died. From there, I returned home, where news of the events that transpired reached me. I went to report to the King to inform him of my return when he began to grow ill. The circumstances around his illness seemed suspicious to me and so I’ve remained here in the castle to watch over him.”

“Have you seen anyone acting strangely?” Arman asked.

Sir Edwinem shook his head slowly. “Not more so than usual, even so there is a lingering feeling of something in the air, of the darkness. I suppose strangers like yourselves would not sense it, but for someone like me, who’s visited the castle many times, can feel a difference,” he explained.

Now that the knight mentioned it, Tiuri did feel something different in the castle. The lights seemed dimmer, the air colder, larger and emptier than it had been before. Tiuri had assumed it had been the time of day that would cause the change, but it must be cause for concern if Sir Edwinem was worried about it.

“Do you think there’s a person behind the darkness?” Lavinia said carefully, watching the knight for his response.

Sir Edwinem pondered the question for a moment. “Do you mean to say that you suspect the late Viridian to be cause for the darkness?” he asked.

“We aren’t sure, but he was the man who brought about the darkness last time. We believed he might be causing it again. We came here for the sole purpose to question His Grace or His Highness on Virdian’s whereabouts, where he might hide, or anything we could learn from them about him,” Tiuri explained.

“I can’t honestly say whether I think he could be behind it all or not, but I suppose if you believe that to be the case, who am I to argue? You would be as close to experts on the matter,” Sir Edwinem said, turning to look at Lavinia. “Even so, I’m afraid you won’t find him hiding here. I’ve been investigating on my own, trying to find the source of the darkness within the castle. I would see shadows on the wall belonging to no one and when I walk over to investigate it, the shadow disappears. The darkness in the castle hides in cracks and crevices in the stone, but you’re welcome to look for yourselves. I’ll make sure of it,” he told them.

“You knew him, didn’t you?” Tiuri asked, suddenly remembering where the knight had been running from when they had first met. Sir Edwinem had served in Unauwen’s army while they were still at war with Eviellen. If the King and Prince were unavailable for questioning, he was likely as any to be a good source of Viridian’s actions and thoughts. “Where do you think he’d be then, if he wasn’t here? Where would he hide?” Tiuri asked.

“I knew him as well as someone like me could, but far better than most I would say. Most didn’t suspect the truth behind the prince’s actions, but I knew the prince wasn’t as honorable or as noble as his father and brother. There were others who knew him far better, men he trusted, but I suppose you wouldn’t be able to speak with them anyway, nor would they speak with you. Very well, I will share what I can and to the best of my ability,” Sir Edwinem promised them.

“I would expect nothing less from a knight like you, sir,” Piak said, voice still full of awe and looking at the knight as if he couldn’t believe he was standing before him. Jussipo tried to silence his brother with a stern look, but Piak, naturally, ignored him.

Tiuri could still hear them whispering behind him as he turned to address the knight. “Where would he hide? What would he do now that he’s been defeated once?” Tiuri asked.

“He wouldn’t return here,” Sir Edwinem said quickly. “While I do sense there’s a darkness here, a lingering presence, I do not suspect you’d be able to catch him anyway. By now, he’s likely heard of your arrival and would have fled as quickly as he could. He’s likely hiding somewhere he feels safe, and that certainly wouldn’t be here.”

“Where would that be? A place where he would feel safe?” Arman asked him.

“A place where he’s had many victories, friends and allies, a place where he feels the most powerful: Eviellan,” Sir Edwinem told them with a grim look on his face.

Eviellan. Tiuri felt his heart sink at the word. If they wanted to find Viridian, Tiuri had to return to the one place he’d never thought he’d ever return to: home.

*

Mistrinaut was not a warm and welcoming place. If Jabroot had to describe it, he would have called it inhospitable and unpleasant. It was a town that drew criminals and low lives to it like flies to dung. Jabroot couldn’t see the appeal or rationale behind it as Mistrinaut famously made its money through the collection of bounties and reward money, but he supposed it was the only town around for miles, situated close to the mountains that separated Dagonaut and Unauwen. He supposed the same could be asked of him as he was, after all, lingering in town for seemingly no purpose.

It wasn’t pleasure or family or business that drew Jabroot to the town, but duty. He could still hear the words ringing his ear as if they were just spoken, could see the sight of what drew him there standing before him.

Jabroot had been traveling south to Eviellan after Prince Viridian’s defeat. He would have thought to feel free with his former master’s demise, but instead he felt lost, aimless. Despite what Jabroot felt about the man, Prince Viridian had a commanding presence and had dominated almost every aspect of Jabroot’s life for years. It was difficult to find what drove Jabroot before he crossed paths with the prince, and he suspected it would take years for him to find purpose in his life once more, but he had been prepared and eager to take that journey of self-discovery. Jabroot had grown quite tired and weary – quite weary, something that ached him to his very bones – and was eager to make his own way again, become his own master once more.

Jabroot had thought there would be no perfect place to find himself but in Eviellan, his home that he had helped destroy. A part of him had hesitated to consider staying, thinking about what its few residents would think and saw a man who was Eviellan but had helped bring about its end. In fact, Jabroot thought that no other man could be fit for the task of rebuilding Eviellan than one who helped with its doom. It would have been his penance, his punishment, his duty to rebuild Eviellan to something resembling the home he remembered. Jabroot knew it would be difficult, but he relished the task. After all, Jabroot had done terrible and difficult things before. It was something he had, unfortunately, grown accustomed to.

It was when he was helping fix up huts in a small village close to the border that he saw him first. At first, Jabroot had thought it was a trick, that he had stayed up too long, worked too hard, and was now teetering on exhaustion. There had been no explanation for it otherwise, but then the image began to speak to him in the same, old familiar way that had made Jabroot’s heart ache for a myriad of reasons.

“Jabroot,” the spirit had told him, with the same voice, the same look in his dark eyes, shining bright with determination.

“It can’t be. It can’t,” Jabroot had said, collapsed to his knees at the sight of his former master. He had been free. He was supposed to be finally free.

“But it is. There’s no time for pleasantries, Jabroot. I have an important task for you, one that cannot wait,” Prince Viridian had told him. It was always an important task that was asked of him. That much had not changed since the prince’s demise.

“You’re gone,” Jabroot had whispered, as if that would make the ghost disappear.

The prince had smiled at that, as if he suspected Jabroot to be as devastated as he was at the sight of him. “No, not entirely. The girl may have vanquished me for a time, but she did not defeat me, not completely. I still remain, weakened but alive, but that’s unimportant now. If I am to regain my power, regain what I’ve lost, I must act quickly, which is why I’ve come to you, my oldest friend, my dearest companion,” Prince Viridian had said almost sweetly.

“No, no, no,” Jabroot had whispered, clutched his head and closed his eyes to make the image disappear. He had felt something soft had touched his shoulder and when he opened his eyes, he had found the prince kneeling, bent down on one knee, with a hand placed on Jabroot’s shoulder. If it had been anyone else, it might have been a comforting gesture, but it was the prince and Jabroot’s feelings for the man had always been complicated at best.

Jabroot had been filled with a sense of dread and doom then, knew that he would never be free of the man, knew that he would complete whatever task the other man asked because he had never been able to refuse him no matter how much he desperately wanted to.

“I know this is difficult for you,” the prince had said softly, his face had been softer than Jabroot had ever seen him in life, “but I will only ask you for this one task and then I will be gone from your life.”

Jabroot’s eyes had widened at that. “Gone? Completely? Truly?” Jabroot had found that hard to believe at the time.

The prince had nodded, kept eye contact with Jabroot as he continued, his face had contorted with so many emotions that Jabroot hadn’t been able to properly keep track of them all. “I promise. All you have to do for me is one final task,” the prince had promised.

Jabroot had risen to his feet, looked at the prince’s eyes for the only time. “What do you want me to do?” he had asked, voice soft.

“The girl – the light – I want you to find her weakness. Discover her origins, her family, her friends, everything and report everything that you learn to me. Start at Mistrinaut. There has to be something I can use to defeat her. I trust no other with the task save you, Jabroot,” the prince had said.

It was only one last task, Jabroot had thought to himself. He could do one last thing. “And you’ll leave me be after?”

The prince had smiled and nodded, leaning close to whisper in Jabroot’s ear, stood too close to Jabroot for his liking, but the prince had always cared very little for personal boundaries. “If that is your wish, yes, but you and I both know that we are fundamentally linked together. You really must stop pretending otherwise. We’re tied together whether you like it or not. It’s only a matter of time before you realize that.”

And then the prince had disappeared, his features blended into the shadows until there was nothing left of him. Jabroot had not seen the prince since, which was for the best if Jabroot was being honest with himself. The prince had always held a strange hold over him, a strong connection existed between them that Jabroot couldn’t ignore, nor refuse, and he had never been sure as to the cause of it.

Now he found himself sitting in a tavern in the town of Mistrinaut. Jabroot had tried his best to remain unnoticed, but there were always eyes everywhere watching him. People had questioned his appearance at first, curious as to who he was and where he’d come from. It was always clear to everyone that he was foreign, something that Jabroot had never bothered to hide about himself. He was proud of his ancestry, of his homeland despite all that he had done to it, and he certainly wasn’t to hide that part of himself just to avoid wandering glances. Jabroot did his best to answer any questions others had for him, and eventually, they all grew accustomed to seeing him there and he became a part of the background, just like the other locals.

It didn’t take long for Jabroot to gather the information he needed as everyone in the small town couldn’t stop talking about the events that occurred a few months ago. The mayor’s daughter had saved the kingdom of Unauwen from the prince’s rebellion in a single stroke, which often led to discussions about the girl – Lavinia was her name – and how she’d always been a little rebellious herself, and now she was saving kingdoms and kings and doing the sort of deeds that brave, noble knights always did, except now a girl from Mistrinaut was the cause of all those great deeds. From there, it was easy enough to put together the pieces, although it had required listening to the same stories a number of times.

Whenever a newcomer came in, they often asked about the mayor’s daughter, who she was and what she was like, and was it true that she’d done everything everyone said she did? The locals were always happy to educate travelers on the mayor’s daughter and eventually Jabroot was able to discover her parentage once enough people asked the right questions.

The girl was born and raised in Mistrinaut, the Mayor’s one and only offspring. It was easy enough to discover the Mayor’s lineage, as he was quick to boast about his daughter and her role in all the events that occurred. The Mayor’s family had been tasked with the charge of Mistrinaut for centuries, and sometimes Jabroot would hear the tale of how great and wonderful Mistrinaut used to be before descending into near ruin just a few months previously, that is until Lavinia saved Unauwen and Mistrinaut was saved by the lavish rewards Lavinia had received as thanks for her deeds in Unauwen. It had been clear to Jabroot then that Lavinia’s magical origins did not hail from her father. A glance at the town itself was quick to reveal that any magical properties to the town or its inhabitants were long gone.

That left Jabroot with the tricky obstacle of discovering any information on Lavinia’s mother. The locals and the Mayor himself were strangely silent on the subject. It was the one piece of information that eluded Jabroot the most and what had left him spending weeks in the town in the hopes of learning something. When it became clear that listening itself would not bring forth the information he needed, Jabroot approached a local, someone who he’d seen to have great knowledge of the Mayor and his family, and many drinks later, Jabroot finally had his answers. Lavinia’s mother had been a noblewoman from Dangria, who had left shortly after Lavinia was born. It was all Jabroot was able to coax from the man, but it would be enough.

After a full night’s rest, Jabroot replenished his supplies and set out for Dangria at once, wondering about what he would find there, knowing he had to find  _ something _ as his future and sanity depended on it.

_ Dangria _ , he pleaded,  _ please have the answers I need _ .

*

The girl had been quiet when Jaro had awoken. He had expected a conversation about what happened the night before and even a rebuke about how he had spoken to the girl, but instead he was met with silence and a very cutting glare, which Jaro supposed he deserved.

They broke their fast quietly with Jaro paying for the room’s damages to the innkeeper while the girl gathered their horses. He waited for her outside the inn when he finished, leaning against a wooden post.

Jaro let his mind wander, still thinking about the strange dream he had and what it meant. It certainly wasn’t an ordinary dream, but he had no idea what it meant. He was sure the girl would have ideas, but that would mean admitting that he was wrong, and worst of all, apologizing. Jaro may have changed his ways, but that didn’t mean he had changed completely. He knew he was still an ass, especially toward the girl, especially when she’d done nothing to deserve it. One day he would be a better man and treat her properly. Jaro just wasn’t sure when that day would be because it certainly wasn’t going to be that day.

When he looked up, he found a man staring at him from a distance, and even from there, Jaro could perfectly make out the man’s very distinctive features.  _ It couldn’t be _ , Jaro thought to himself,  _ not  _ him.

It was at that moment that the girl returned with their horses, grumbling angrily to herself about not being anyone’s servant.

“Be quiet and don’t ask any questions,” Jaro told her, keeping his eyes on the man on the road approaching them.

“What are you on about?” the girl asked.

“Just do as I say and get behind me,” he told her, grabbing her arm and pulling her behind him.

The man made his way to them slowly at an easy and steady pace as if he had all the time in the world.

The girl’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the stranger. “Who is he? Do you know him?”

“He’s bad news is what he is. Just let me do all the talking,” he told her.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Sure, like I haven’t heard that before,” she mumbled to herself. “We can take him easily.”

The man was standing before them then, eyeing them curiously with a wide smile on his face. He wore a red, wide-brim hat that covered long, thin blond hair and the most hideous brown cloak Jaro had ever seen. For a moment, Jaro thought he was mistaken, but when he saw those cold, grey eyes, Jaro knew he had been right the first time.

“Jaro,” the man greeted warmly, the warmth never quite reaching his eyes. “It is very curious to see you here. I’ve heard a great many tales told about your more recent exploits.” He eyed the girl carefully, inspecting her like a cat would a mouse.

“Let’s cut to the chase. Tell me why you’re here. I have other business I need to attend to,” Jaro said curtly, crossing his arms against his chest.

The man’s eyes widened, awakening a spark of joy in his eyes. Jaro knew then that he’d said too much, revealing something he hadn’t meant to. “Of course, you’ve always been rather blunt. Very well, I’ve come in search of you for there have been a few of us gathering, you see, to finish what the prince started. He has supporters still in Eviellan and to the south of Unauwen. Many remember that he was the one to end the war and are loyal to him still,” the man informed him, his grey eyes shining.

Jaro laughed bitterly. “You want me to join you, you and a bunch of discontents, and for what? Prince Viridian lost everything. He’s dead! What use is gathering around the name of a dead man? He already lost and I have no interest in working for a lost cause. Lost causes don’t pay well, and you bloody well know that,” Jaro told him, forgetting himself for a moment and forgetting who he was speaking to.

Jaro was expecting the man to be angry, and Jaro wouldn’t have blamed him, but instead he was calm with the same smile on his face, and that frightened Jaro more than an angry outburst would have. “Oh, I see. I don’t blame you for that. I hear you, Jaro, loud and clear. I’ll respect your wishes. You don’t have to worry about me trying to persuade you otherwise. I know how stubborn you can be. I would like just one favor,” he said.

“I don’t have time for favors. We’re on our way to Dagonaut, and I know you haven’t many friends there so it’s best you steer clear,” Jaro told him, cursing himself afterwards. He’d said too much again.

“We?” the man asked, turning his gaze to the girl. “I see you’ve picked someone in your travels. Not your daughter, of course, far too old for that, or a niece or cousin, or any sort of distant relative. Must be a stray,” the man said almost cruelly.

“I’m not a stray!” the girl said defensively, glaring defiantly at the man.

“Oh? Who are you then, and what is your name, girl?” the man asked almost sweetly, eyeing her in a way Jaro didn’t like.

Jaro tried to silently communicate to the girl not to reveal anything, but of course she wouldn’t meet his eye, too busy glaring at the man. “It’s none of your business, that’s what! And who are you asking people for their names when you haven’t even bothered mentioning your own? You hiding something?” the girl asked, casting a suspicious look at the man.

“Jaro knows me as I know him. We’ve worked together before. As for the name, I’ve been known by many, far too many to count, but the most famous is Slither,” the man, Slither, told her casually. 

“Slither? What kind of idiotic name is that?” the girl asked before Jaro had a chance to silence her.

The man laughed, the sound sounding strange like it was rehearsed. “Perhaps you’ll have a chance to learn why,” the man told her.

Jaro pulled on the reins of his horse. “Well, that will have to be some other time as I’ve said we have business elsewhere and the likes of you aren’t welcomed in Dagonaut or Unauwen,” Jaro said firmly, hoping that would settle the matter.

“Oh, but you wouldn’t mind me traveling with you, would you? There’s always safety in numbers and you never know who you’ll come across with in these trying times,” Slither said.

Jaro could find no obvious reason to continue refusing him, and he knew from experience that Slither was as determined as they came and persistent to boot. There would be very little Jaro could say or do to convince the man to leave them alone, save a fight, and Jaro wasn’t too keen on that at the moment.

“We’re traveling by horse and have none to spare. The girl’s lame in one foot-“

“And you’re lame in the head!” the girl retorted, kicking Jaro in the shins.

“And, apparently, I’m lame in the head, so there’s none left for you and the girl refuses to share with anyone. You’d have to walk the whole way,” Jaro told him, hoping against hope that would be enough to dissuade the man.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage,” Slither said with a smile before walking off, heading straight for the inn.

As soon as he was out of sight, Jaro jumped on his horse. “Come on, we have to go before he comes back,” he told the girl.

The girl fixed him with a look again but did as he said and climbed onto her horse. Jaro took off shortly afterwards, wanting to bring as much distance between them and Slither. Apparently, it was enough as it wasn’t long before Slither caught up to them, riding a grey dapple horse, undoubtedly stolen with its owner lying in a ditch nearby. And here Jaro was hoping to lead of life free of complications. It wasn’t like he already had a large problem with the _ gift _ threatening to consume his very life, but now he had to worry about his past catching up to him. Why couldn’t his life ever be simple?

They traveled some way in the random direction Jaro had chosen. He had no idea if they were heading to Dagonaut or Unauwen at this point and neither the girl nor Slither had corrected him otherwise. The girl likely knew his story of heading to Dagonaut was a ruse. Slither likely knew it, too, which made Jaro wonder what the man’s plan was, and he knew he had one. The slimy weasel always had a plan. Jaro just wished he knew how he fit into it and how to get him and the girl out.

It was hours before Jaro stopped at an inn to rest and eat. The girl looked relieved while Slither eyed the place carefully, as he always did, before heading in. Jaro would have been content with a silent meal, but Slither seemed to be in a talkative mood, asking Jaro and the girl all different sorts of questions about what they’d been doing and where they’d been. Jaro would give him short, curt responses, while the girl responded savagely, as she always did. Jaro knew Slither didn’t like that, and he would have tried to warn her off it, but it was difficult with Slither watching his every move. Jaro had to be content with keeping an eye on the man and hope for the best.

Jaro took them back on the road as soon as he could, picking a random direction once more before setting off. He hoped that perhaps traveling would dissuade Slither from accompanying them, as he likely wouldn’t want to travel all the way to Dagonaut just to persuade Jaro to join his cause. Eventually the man would see that Jaro wasn’t joining him. At least, that’s what Jaro hoped to accomplish.

When it became dark, Jaro stopped by an empty patch of land off the road that appeared to be uninhabited.

“We should rest for today. We have a long,  _ hard _ day of traveling,” Jaro said loudly.

“Since when have you been put off by travel, Jaro?” Slither asked as he climbed off his horse. “You’ve been traveling all over Eviellan and Unauwen for years, unless, of course, you’re getting too  _ old _ to travel now.”

Jaro grit his teeth at the insult but kept his comments to himself, instead busying his mind with what they needed to do to set camp.

“I’m not sure Jaro’s the one that's getting too old,” the girl retorted pointedly.

Jaro laughed at that, louder than was necessary, and it got the girl laughing too. Slither rolled his eyes as he went over to tie his horse’s reins to a nearby tree.

“We’ll need some wood for the fire,” Jaro said after he managed to compose himself.

“I can get some wood. I’m certainly not too old for that much,” Slither told them with a smile before slinking off into the trees to find the wood.

Jaro turned on the girl. “You need to stop with the witty remarks. Slither’s not a man you should be insulting,” he warned her.

“Who is he? How did the two of you meet?” the girl asked.

Jaro took a quick look at his surroundings, trying to see if Slither was within earshot. “We met in Prince Viridian’s army. He was one of Viridian’s soldiers, Red Riders, spies, you name it. He did everything for the man, and was good at it, too. He’s not the type of man you want as your enemy,” he explained.

“And you don’t want him here,” the girl surmised quickly.

“Yes, and your little quips aren’t helping. Just stay quiet and let me handle it,” Jaro said quickly, spotting the man in the distance heading their way.

“If you want him gone so badly, why don’t you use your gift to scare him off?” the girl asked as she busied herself with her pack, pulling out a blanket.

Jaro shushed her before he did the same, trying to look busy as Slither deposited his gathered wood on the ground.

“It was all I could find,” Slither told them.

Jaro turned to inspect the fire and found it all soaking wet.

“Surely there’s better pieces than that?” the girl asked as she inspected a particularly soggy stick.

“None that I could find. You’re welcome to look for yourself if you don’t believe me,” Slither said calmly, looking to Jaro.

That was a challenge if Jaro ever heard one and he was willing to rise to it until he remembered that he wasn’t who he used to be. He couldn’t run off and do what he liked, drink himself into a stupor whenever he wanted. He had a partner – he had the girl to look after, and that meant taking more careful thought into his actions. Sure, Jaro could leave to find wood on his own, leaving the girl alone with Slither to do who knows what in his absence and Jaro was sure the man was eagerly awaiting a moment alone with her. Or he could let the girl look for wood, alone, possibly heading to a trap of Slither’s own concoction. It wasn’t a good situation either way, and Slither likely knew that, probably planned it that way the stupid bastard. Or Jaro himself could be getting too paranoid for his own good and there was nothing the man was planning, and the wood really was wet. Jaro couldn’t think of a way out and did the only thing he could do.

Jaro reached for the wet wood, pulled a knife from his belt and started shaving the wet bark off the stick. Some were too thin and likely wouldn’t burn, but it was better than nothing. It would take longer than making a fire with dry wood would have. The girl reached and pulled a set of sticks aside to carve as well. Jaro found Slither looking at him with a peculiar expression on his face, something resembling close to disappointment, before he turned away and headed toward his pack, heading to sleep soon after.

Jaro almost sighed in relief, feeling like he narrowly missed something important. He just didn’t know what.

He and the girl headed to bed soon after with Jaro and the girl taking turns to tend to the fire in the night.

Morning came soon enough, and while Jaro had hoped to awaken before Slither had, he had found him ready with some meat roasting over the fire.

“Want some? You’re welcome to whatever you like,” Slither offered graciously, a warm smile on his face, the same cold grey eyes looking up at them.

The girl looked at the meat hungrily, reaching for it before hesitating, turning to look at Jaro, who shook his head.

“What? You don’t trust me, Jaro? I’m starting to think you believe all the stories they tell about me,” Slither said, taking a large bite of the cooked meat.

Jaro offered the girl some bread and cheese he had in his pack, before taking a bite of the small loaf of bread he’d pulled out for himself. “I don’t trust you,” Jaro said honestly, “but that’s because I know all the stories about you are true.”

Slither smiled, a true wicked smile before taking another bite of the meat. “And you best not forget it.”

Jaro didn’t.

They packed up their camp quickly before setting off once more. Once again, Jaro didn’t consult a map, heading off in a random direction. The day passed the same way the previous one had with a break to eat and heading off once again in a random direction of Jaro’s choosing.

It was close to sunset when Jaro saw something curious in the distance. It wasn’t until they were too close that Jaro realized what it was: a mob. It was the largest gathering Jaro had ever seen, well over dozens of people gathered in the middle of nowhere for no reason.

Jaro pulled his horse to a stop with the girl and Slither following suit. “We need to find another way around. We don’t want to get caught in this,” Jaro told them, pulling on his horse’s reins.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Slither said calmly, pointing to the crowd.

The crowd had spotted them and were making their way over to them, made all the easier by the fact that they were just standing there because Jaro had been an idiot and stopped. There was still time though, Jaro thought to himself. They were on horseback, after all, and could race away before they reached them. He pulled his horse around and found a group of men on horseback riding toward them wearing black armor and red cloaks, red riders. There was no escape with the crowd and riders closing in on them from all sides.

Damn! Jaro should have seen it coming, should have known that it was a trap all along. How could he have been so stupid? And now they were trapped with no way out.

“Jaro, what do we do?” the girl asked him, face grim. She wasn’t scared…yet. Jaro wished he could say the same of himself.

“Just stay close. I’ll think of something,” Jaro said, scanning the crowd, searching for something he could use to his advantage.

“You can start by getting off your horse,” Slither said calmly.

Jaro turned and found him far too close to the girl for his liking. The girl, to her credit, tried to shift away from the man as best she could.

“Jaro?” she asked.

“Do what he says,” Jaro told her.

The girl looked to him and back to Slither before looking to Jaro again. Jaro started to climb off his horse with the girl doing the same. She quickly rushed over to Jaro’s side, a dagger in hand, ready to fight her way out.

“You need to use it. It’s the only way out of this,” the girl whispered, her back to Jaro as she kept an eye on the crowd, who had descended in a strangely quiet fashion.

“Just let me handle this,” Jaro told her.

“I would but you haven’t been handling it at all,” she hissed. “You need to do something!”

“I’m waiting for the right moment,” Jaro argued.

“When will that be? Will it be before the sixth or seventh stabbing, do you think? It must be now! What are you waiting for?” the girl urged him.

Jaro knew that she was right, but he didn’t want to play that card yet. Slither clearly wanted something from him, and it certainly wasn’t something as simple as recruitment. For a second, Jaro had almost suspected that Slither knew about the gift, but he reminded himself that no one but the girl and the prince knew about that. No one had seen him use his gift in the open, and while he hadn’t thought of it as a secret, he certainly didn’t want someone like Slither to know about it. It was best to let a man like Slither underestimate you, and perhaps if Jaro played his cards right, Slither would have no reason to suspect anything and would see that Jaro was no use to him. Jaro just had to hope the girl would play along for the time being.

Jaro turned to Slither who approached them calmly. “What do you want?”

“Walk with me a moment,” Slither told them. The crowd parted for them as Slither walked toward the center of the crowd. Being surrounded as they were, Jaro felt they had little choice but to comply with the man’s demand.

Jaro followed Slither, careful to keep the girl close to him, eyes darting between the crowd, still trying to spot a weak point somewhere.

“Are you going to tell me what this is really about? Surely this isn’t about me joining you? In case you hadn’t heard, I failed miserably at Unauwen. My best days are behind me,” Jaro told him, and while normally the admission would have stung, Jaro hoped it was enough to convince the man.

“You’re being modest, Jaro. This has always been about you and your  _ gifts _ ,” Slither told him.

Jaro and the girl exchanged looks. Surely, he couldn’t know, could he?

“Oh, stop pretending, Jaro, and just admit it. I know about your gift, your fire, and I think we can put it to great use,” Slither said, pacing around them, like a lion circling its prey.

How could he know? Perhaps Prince Viridian had been in contact with him? It certainly was possible, but Jaro felt it was unlikely. Prince Viridian did count on Slither, of course, but even Prince Viridian saw the danger he posed. Slither was as ruthless and cold as they came with no loyalties to anyone, and a man like that was dangerous, even when he was on your side. You never knew when they would decide to turn on you. It was why he relied on Jaro and Jabroot to complete tasks for him. Jaro supposed if Prince Viridian was intending to come back and take control, he’d want all the allies he could get and had contacted Slither to gather support for him. Perhaps Jaro could use that to his advantage.

“What makes you think I’ll tell you anything? How do I know this isn’t a trap and that you’re working with Unauwen instead? Prove me that you’re to be trusted, and perhaps then I’ll consider your request. Start with how you knew,” Jaro said carefully.

Slither’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as if he suspected Jaro was springing a trap of his own, which Jaro couldn’t see how he could as he was surrounded by enemies. “Haven’t you seen it? Felt its presence? The darkness – our prince’s darkness has returned.”

“You’ve spoken to him then? The prince?” Jaro asked, eyeing the man carefully, still trying to think of something to get them out of the mess Jaro’s trapped them in.

“I didn’t need to. There’s darkness everywhere if you haven’t noticed. I knew his return was inevitable and decided to act accordingly, gather his allies, and remind the others of where their loyalties are,” Slither answered.

Jaro smiled. Now he had him. “Have you? That’s all well and fine. You go and fight your pointless battle for a dead man, who hasn’t appeared. I’ll stay here in the realm of reality where dead men stay dead. Enjoy your fruitless struggle,” Jaro said condescendingly.

Slither growled, hands clenching at his sides, until he forced a smile. “I thought you might feel that way,” he said with a dark chuckle, eyeing the girl by Jaro’s side.

With a wave of Slither’s hand, the crowd descended on them. Jaro tried to break free, draw his sword, dagger, knife, anything, but the others crowded him, countless hands reaching out and holding him still. They pulled the girl away, knocking the dagger from her hand and dragging her over to Slither’s side and all Jaro could do was watch.

“Let her go! She has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me,” Jaro told him, struggling against the hold the crowd had on him.

“You’ve forced my hand, Jaro. I certainly didn’t want it to end this way, but you’ve given me no choice,” Slither said, sounding far too amused and pleased by the turn of events.

A group of men pulling a heavy barrel emerged from behind Slither, holding it up over the girl’s head, ready to tip its contents.

Jaro didn’t know what the man had planned but he had to do something, just anything but  _ that _ . “Why are you doing this? I’m nothing! No one important. What does it matter that I join you?” Jaro said.

“Oh, but I know you aren’t, Jaro. You have a gift as I’ve said, and I intend to make sure you use it for the right reasons. You were right about one thing, Jaro; I certainly don’t want to fight for a losing side, but we’re not on the losing side now, are we? Prince Viridian is more powerful than he ever was before and he’s gifted you fire. His powers exceed anything that a mere man possessed. No army would stand a chance against him now. We’ll win this time, and it won’t be Eviellan that burns to the ground. It’ll be all of Unauwen that will be under Prince Viridian’s control. Just you see, Jaro,” Slither pronounced, his eyeing with a powerful emotion – madness, perhaps.

Jaro scoffed, trying his best to look unfazed. “Every word that’s come out of your mouth is a load of rubbish! You’ve really lost it, Slither. You used to be someone and now you’re just a deranged lunatic with delusions of power. I have no gifts, no magic and no powers and you have no proof otherwise. Just let the girl go and we’ll be on our way and forget this whole humiliating experience for you didn’t happen,” Jaro told him.

Instead of growing enraged, Slither smirked, his cruel smile widening and Jaro knew that that meant. That meant he missed something.

“No gifts? No magic? Proof, you say? And there’s no Prince anywhere? Well, there’s one easy way to prove it all,” Slither said, gesturing to the men behind him.

They poured the contents of the barrel over the girl’s head, coating in a thick, dark liquid, spreading it around her, leaving a dark puddle on the ground. A woman handed Slither a torch as Jaro felt his heart stop in his chest. He wouldn’t…would he? And then Jaro remembered who he was dealing with, and yes, he certainly would and would barely prance around the girl’s corpse when he was done with it all, the conniving bastard.

“Slither, don’t. Think about what you’re doing. The girl – she means nothing. Let’s just talk, you and me, eh? Somewhere nice and quiet,” Jaro said quickly.

Slither held up his free hand to his face as he pretended to ponder about the situation. “How about…no?” Slither said, a sadistic smile on his as he dropped the torch on the ground, where the dark liquid instantly caught on fire.

Jaro moved fast, shoved the man holding his back. He tried to do the same on the other side, but wasn’t able to pull free, leaving only one hand free but it was the only one needed. In a blink of an eye, the fire was extinguished, leaving the girl standing in the dark, damp puddle, dirty but safe. She had a furious look on her face, glaring at Slither as if merely looking at him would hurt him. Jaro dropped to his knees in relief.

“See? That wasn’t so hard. I’m not sure why you were fighting the truth so much. I always knew. Why bother hiding it?” Slither told him, his eyes glowing in triumph.

“How? I was careful,” Jaro half-mumbled to himself.

“Not that careful, apparently. I heard you, the whole confession about the fire, where it came from, everything. I knew it because I was there, watching you from the shadows. It hadn’t been intentionally, at first,” Slither explained, “I was just following old leads, you see, and I found you. I was going to surprise you when I noticed you acting strangely and so I followed you in the shadows, and I heard your confession. From there, I knew what I had to do. You’re right that I haven’t seen Prince Viridian, but I knew with his return, I would have work to do, and so I headed out, gathered a few friends and returned to recruit you. I certainly didn’t think it would be difficult to convince you. I hadn’t anticipated that and so I had to get creative. I don’t intend to lose again, Jaro, not this time, not if I can help and you’re going to help me. With those powers of yours, we’ll be unstoppable.”

For the first time in his life, Jaro felt at a complete loss for words. “That’s not…I can’t help you. I won’t. That’s not who I am anymore,” Jaro confessed, voice soft.

Slither laughed loudly at that. “Oh, Jaro, don’t delude yourself. You and I? We’re the same. Deep down we’re both rotten to our very bones. There’s no use saying otherwise, so stop pretending, get up and do as I tell you, or,” he gestured to the girl, “you’ll know what’ll happen.”

Jaro slowly rose to his feet. Perhaps Slither had a point. Jaro had been as cold and ruthless before, and there was no denying who he used to be, no making up for all the terrible deeds he had done. Was there any point in even trying? Could someone like him ever truly be capable of becoming a decent man after everything’d done and witnessed? Maybe not. Perhaps there was some blood you could never wash off your hands. Jaro could give in, stop trying to be something else, or…he could try.

“You’re right about a lot of things, Slither, I’ll admit to that, but you forgot one very important detail,” Jaro said, staring the man straight in the eyes. 

Slither rolled his eyes, likely expecting Jaro to make some biting remark. “And what was that?” he asked, the stupid smirk on his face.

“There’s King and Princes and lords, who live a grand world of their own and the likes of you and I have never belonged there. We’ve always been beneath them, serving them, licking their boots like dogs hoping for a scrap of meat to reach us. But sometimes dogs forget their place and you know what happens to dogs that forget their place, don’t you?” Jaro asked, voice hard.

“You wouldn’t. You’ve gone soft now. You don’t have the stomach for such things now,” Slither reminded him, a proud smirk on his face.

“Well, you were the one to remind me that you and I are the same, and there’s no use pretending otherwise, right?” Jaro replied. He didn’t bother to wait for the man’s reply before waving his hand, and, as simple as that, the man known as Slither was no more. His body burning so bright and hot that Jaro could feel the heat from where he stood. 

The crowd scattered like rats on a sinking ship. Jaro just stood there and watched until Slither wasn’t Slither anymore and only ash remained. 

The girl approached him, keeping her distance, watching him carefully. “Are you…alright?” she asked, a worried look on her face.

“Viridian wants the girl dead. That’s the price,” Jaro told her, still staring at the pile of ash.

The girl’s – Iona’s – eyes widened. “The one with the powers? Tiuri’s friend, Lavinia? That girl?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s what he wanted in return for the girl. He wants her dead,” Jaro said.

Iona’s eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious. “Why are you telling me now? I begged for you to tell and now you just admit it? Is it because…” She cast a wary glance at the ash pile.

“He was right about some things. I used to be ass-“

“Used to be? You still are,” Iona reminded him.

“Ha! Ha! Very funny. Fine, I’m still an ass, but I’m not the person I used to be. I don’t want to be. The person I am now? That person’s not going to kill some girl. I’m not capable of it anymore,” Jaro confessed. Perhaps he had always known that deep down inside.

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” Iona asked quietly.

Jaro finally turned to her, finding that she was avoiding his gaze. “That had something to do with it, yeah,” Jaro told her. Truth be told, Jaro hadn’t really given much thought to how he was going to go about killing the girl – Lavinia. He had avoided thinking about it altogether, likely because he knew he wouldn’t go through it, and partly because…

“If I was going to kill her, I would have to go through her friends – your friends, and they would have died trying to protect her. I didn’t think you could live with it, and it was my burden to bear, not yours. I didn’t want to trouble you with a problem that wasn’t yours to begin with. I was going to figure it out on my own,” Jaro explained.

“I-I-“ Iona turned to look at him in the eye, a strange whirlwind of emotions flashing through her eyes. “That’s strangely considerate of you. Stupid, yes, but considerate, almost kind.”

Jaro scoffed. He never thought he’d ever hear anyone call him kind, least of all some girl, but she wasn’t just some girl, was she?

“We’re supposed to be partners-“ Iona started.

“I know,” Jaro said softly.

“-when will you get that through your thick skull? Partners tell each other things, the important bits, at least. No more hiding things anymore, especially stupid secrets you’re going to tell about anyway. Deal?” Iona said, extending out her hand.

Iona should have been afraid of him. Jaro knew that, but somehow, she wasn’t. She certainly was something else. It was about time Jaro admitted that, at least to himself anyway. Jaro certainly wasn’t going to let Iona know that. He’d never hear the end of it if he did.

“Deal,” Jaro promised, reaching out to take her hand in his own. He pulled his hand away quickly. “Your hand is disgusting, by the way. You ought to bathe more often. I know that’s not a concept you’re entirely familiar with but a bath really does wonders-”

“And whose fault is that?” Iona hissed, glaring at him.

Jaro laughed, feeling a bit like everything was back to normal. It wasn’t, but he appreciated a break from the doom and gloom of the position he found himself.

“What now? If you’re not going to kill Lavinia, Viridian will find out and he’ll likely do something unpleasant to you when he does,” Iona reminded him.

“There’s really only one thing we can do,” Jaro said simply.

Iona looked at him, a puzzled look on her face as she was sorting through the different options they had in her head. Jaro knew the exact moment when she knew, her face glowing bright red with anger.

“Oh, no, we don’t! We’re not going to them, of all people, for help!” she told him.

“It’s the only option,” Jaro pointed out and then he hesitated. “You don’t have to come, you know. I meant it before. This is my problem, not yours. I’ll find a way to sort it out.”

Iona rolled her eyes. “As if! You’ve already dragged me into all your problems and it’s only been a few months since we started traveling together! I think I have to accept the fact that I’m stuck with you.”

Jaro was affronted. “You stuck with me? I’m the one stuck with you!” he retorted.

“Who’s the one who had some deluded bastard after him? And I’m still the one covered in muck because of it!” she exclaimed, as she tried to wipe the aforementioned muck from her face.

“And yet you’re still here. You had a chance to leave a long time ago. You’re here because you want to be here so really, I’m the one stuck with you,” Jaro argued.

“You’re full of piss, you know that?” Iona told him, scowling angrily at him.

Jaro laughed. “Is that the best you can come up with?” he asked with a grin.

That set Iona off on a long rant describing Jaro’s many, many, _ many _ negative qualities. Jaro just listened, a warm feeling settling in his chest as he did, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

*

Eviellan. That had stumped them all. They had to travel all the way to Eviellan. Tiuri looked as if the whole world had come crashing down around him.

Sir Edwinem likely noticed the effect his words had on the young man as he had offered them some rooms to stay in the castle. Tiuri had nodded numbly, blindly accepting the offer. Lavinia was concerned, casting worried looks at the young man.

Jussipo didn’t know how well that boded for their group if Tiuri was not in his right mind. He was the leader of their small group. They all looked to him for guidance. Foldo was similarly minded to Tiuri and would make a good leader if Jussipo said so himself, but of course, Foldo was too concerned about Jussipo to ever take charge, and that left Arman, Jussipo thought to himself with some distaste. It wasn’t that Jussipo disliked Arman, but the young man had terrible ideas and had a tendency of letting power go to his head, much like his father before him.

It had been Arman who had thanked the knight for his gracious offer and Arman who had dictated who went where. Tiuri walked blindly into one room with Lavinia following close behind him. They all looked at Arman to see if he would protest at the impropriety of it, but Arman said nothing, huffing off into a different room, which left Jussipo, Foldo and Piak to share the last one.

“Someone should probably go with Arman,” Jussipo suggested, a certain person would get the hint.

Piak wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Arman snores! I’m not sleeping near him!” he exclaimed, rushing into the empty room.

Foldo turned to Jussipo, expression soft. “You think Arman needs someone to look after him?” Foldo asked.

Jussipo felt guilt eat away at him. Of course, it would be Foldo who would volunteer to share a room with Arman when no one else wanted to. How could he ever think Piak would respond to hints and subtlety. It had never worked before.

“No, I just thought…”

Foldo placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “I know. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Foldo told him.

Jussipo nodded, wanting the moment to last longer but knowing they’d be interrupted at any moment. There would be time, Jussipo reminded himself, or so he hoped.

Foldo joined Arman and Jussipo made his way to the room he was sharing with Piak with a heavy sigh. It took a moment, but he fell asleep and had a dreamless sleep, and was awakened by Piak bouncing on him.

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” he grumbled, rising from bed and changing into a set of fresh clothes.

Jussipo and Piak joined the others in a small hall for breakfast. The King was still too ill to see anyone so it was Sir Edwinem who had joined them to break their fast. Tiuri appeared better than he had the previous night, whispering something to Lavinia next to him.

When they had all finished their breakfast, Tiuri rose from his chair, looking stern and serious, turning to Sir Edwinem. “Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Edwinem, but I’m afraid we should be leaving soon,” he announced.

Arman looked as if he wanted to argue, but kept his thoughts to himself. 

Sir Edwinem rose from his chair. “You still haven’t spoken to the King’s advisor. I can arrange the meeting now if you like,” he offered.

Tiuri shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, especially if everything is as you say it is. Staying here wouldn’t help stop the darkness or find Prince Viridian,” Tiuri told him.

“If that is your wish. I’ll see you out,” Sir Edwinem said.

They all gathered what little supplies they had and made the journey to the castle gates with Sir Edwinem as their escort. Jussipo couldn’t help but notice the looks the knight was giving him the entire way there. It wasn’t a suspicious look like the ones Lavinia or Arman had given him when he had first seen them since his revival, nor the intense look of relief and worry he received from Piak and Foldo. It was something else entirely, and Jussipo couldn’t make it out entirely what it was. 

“I’d offer to go with you-” Sir Edwinem started.

“You would? That would be amazing! Can you imagine  _ the _ Black Knight riding with us to vanquish the darkness,” Piak gushed excitedly.

“But I’m afraid that my duty lies here with the king,” Sir Edwinem told them, smiling warmly at Piak, a glint of something like regret in his eye. “Someone has to be here guarding him from his enemies when he is at his most vulnerable,” he explained.

“We understand. We won’t keep you from your duty,” Tiuri said.

“Take care of Ardanwen for me, Tiuri - I’m sorry, Sir Tiuri,” Sir Edwinem said.

“Oh, I’d forgotten about that!” Tiuri exclaimed, his growing red with shame. 

“Don’t be. Ardanwen has chosen his master and I’d know he’ll have a right old time of it with you and not an old bugger like myself,” Sir Edwinem assured him.

“But you’re not an old bugger at all!” Piak exclaimed defensively.

Sir Edwinem laughed. “I’m certainly glad you think so. Best of luck in your quest, and who knows? Perhaps we’ll have a quest together soon,” he added with wink to Piak.

Piak was so overjoyed at the idea that it rendered him speechless, making Jussipo burst out laughing. Of course it would be the famous Black Knight that would cause his brother to be speechless.

The others all waved to the knight, who returned the gesture. Before leaving, Jussipo caught the knight looking at him again, looking as if there was something he wanted to say, and then he stepped, deciding against it. 

“Come on, Jussipo,” Piak told him, pulling at his arm. 

“Right. I’m coming! I’m coming! Don’t tear my arm off. I only got the two and I need them both,” Jussipo told him. 

The group gathered outside the wall where they all stopped to rest a moment. Arman looked accusingly at Tiuri, stepping up to face him. 

“I thought we all agreed to share information with each other. Since when have you been the one to make all the decisions? We’re supposed to be a team,” Arman reminded him.

Tiuri looked taken back by the other man’s words, while Lavinia cast Arman a withering glare. “I - I’m sorry. I discussed the matter with Lavinia and we decided - but you’re right. Let’s talk now. All of us and decide what to do next,” Tiuri said.

“Are you alright with traveling to Eviellan, Tuiri? You seemed troubled about it last night,” Foldo asked gently. 

Jussipo hadn’t thought about it but Tiuri had looked upset by the notion of traveling to Eviellan but he couldn’t imagine going without him. 

Lavinia cast a worried look at Tiuri, biting her lip, but remaining strangely silent on the matter. 

“I - I’m fine. It’ll be fine. It just caught me off guard. It’ll be fine,” Tiuri reassured them.

“Are we really going to Eviellan? Has anyone ever been there? Where would we even begin to look for someone there?” Piak asked. 

“I had a thought about returning home to Dagonaut. I was born in Eviellan but my mother and I left when I was still a baby. I remember nothing of Eviellan, but my mother knows it. It’s likely changed from the war, but it would be better to have some knowledge before heading there, better than going in blind anyway. Those were my thoughts, but everyone else is welcome to share theirs, of course,” Tiuri told them.

It was Lavinia who spoke first of course. “I agree with Tiuri. Returning to Dagonaut may take some time but it’d be worth it to gain some information. We’ll need it if we’re going to find the prince. He spent years fighting a war there. He’ll know Eviellan better than we do and we can’t let him have that advantage,” she argued.

Arman scoffed, mumbling to himself that of course she’ll agree with Tiuri.

“I think it’s a sound plan,” Foldo said quickly, eyeing Arman. 

“I agree,” Jussipo told them. Piak chimed his agreement shortly after.

They all looked to Arman, who just rolled his eyes. “You really think I’m going to let you lot go off to Eviellan on your own? Fat chance of that,” he told them.

“I knew you cared about us, Arman,” Jussipo teased him. 

“Shut up! I’ve always cared. You lot just infuriate me sometimes,” Arman retorted. 

“We should be going then. It’s still light out and we’ll be able to get a lot of riding done today,” Tiuri said.

“Wait! There’s something I - well, I thought of something we could try to learn something,” Lavinia told them.

“What? Really? Why didn’t you mention it earlier?” Arman asked.

Lavinia shot Arman an angry look. “I hadn’t thought of it before, otherwise I would have mentioned it. I was thinking if Viridian was connected to the darkness, perhaps we could use that to learn something about him.” She turned to Jussipo then. “You said you felt the darkness inside of you and if Viridian is connected to that darkness, perhaps you could search through it for him, find out where he is or what he's planning.”

Jussipo’s eyes widened. “I can do that?” he asked, feeling like he would have remembered doing that if he was capable of it.

Lavinia shrugged. “I don’t know if you can but you can certainly try,” she suggested.

“Alright! I’ll give it a go,” Jussipo said quickly, before either Foldo or Piak could protest. He loved them both dearly but he was tired of their worry.

“Jussipo, are you sure about this?” Foldo asked, looking visibly worried, just as Jussipo knew he would be.

“Of course I’m sure! If there’s something I can do to help, I want to do it. I want to try,” Jussipo told him. Then he turned to Lavinia. “Where should we do this? How? I’ll try but I’m not sure how.”

“I think close to your grave would be good. It would have been better with the darkness there, but there’s no going back now,” Lavinia suggested.

They all walked over close to the site of Jussipo’s open grave, where the dirt was still scattered half-hazhardly. No one had tried to fix it after the darkness attacked them, too scared to try. Jussipo looked at it with dread, reminding himself that wasn’t what they were there for. 

“Now what?” Jussipo asked.

“Just concentrate and focus on the darkness,” Lavinia told him.

“We might want to sit down for this. It’ll probably take a while. Have you ever seen Jussipo be quiet when he ought to be?” Arman pointed out.

Jussipo was about to argue otherwise but thought better of it. Arman was right after all. With a shrug, he took a seat on the grass, and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. Think of nothing, think of darkness, Jussipo reminded himself, but thinking of darkness was too abstract a concept for Jussipo to really imagine. Instead all he could think about was the smell of the field around them, sea breeze hitting his hair, the feel of the grass and dirt beneath him, the loud sound of Arman’s breathing growing louder and louder the more Jussipo listened to it. 

Jussipo peeked at his surroundings, finding himself still there in the field with his friends all looking at him. “How long has it been?” he asked. 

“Two minutes,” Arman answered.

Jussipo flopped on his back with a groan. “It’s not working. It’s taking too long.”

“What are you thinking about?” Lavinia asked with a frown.

“Darkness,” Jussipo said simply.

Lavinia shook her head. “That’s too vague. You said you felt the darkness before. Try thinking about that feeling, how it felt,” she suggested.

Jussipo sighed. He was afraid she was going to say that. He sat up again, closing his eyes once more and thought about his grave, thought of the darkness around him, the memory of being trapped, overwhelmed, suffocated came back to him all too quickly. When he opened his eyes again, he was there in the darkness. 

The sight of it startled Jussipo. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy, that fast, and that worried him, but Jussipo had never been the type of person to worry about anything so he thought of other matters, like trying to navigate the darkness he found himself in. He rose to his feet, looking all around him, but it was all the same pitch black darkness that surrounded him. There was no ground beneath his feet or sky above him, or even a sun, nothing in the distance and nothing close by. There was only darkness.

Jussipo walked forward, figuring there had to be something somewhere, especially if Viridian was using the darkness for his own end. For a while, it seemed like Jussipo wasn’t going anywhere or making any progress, but he carried on all the same, feeling like he had to, he had to find something, had to be useful somehow.

Jussipo didn’t know how much time he’d spent there, walking to nowhere, but it must have been a while as he could feel himself tiring. After a while, he could even see his breath fogging up before his eyes. He looked down at his hand and found himself shaking. He considered going back but remembered that he had a mission here, and he was going to see it through it to the end. 

He walked on, shivering the whole way, finding himself growing more and more tired. The next time he looked down at his hands, he found his skin starting to peel, revealing the flesh underneath. The sight startled him, as he hadn’t noticed getting injured and it hadn’t hurt at all. He opened his fingers, finding it was growing difficult to flex his fingers. 

He carried on, undeterred, determined. The next time he looked down at his fingers, he could see white bone peeking out, but Jussipo didn’t let that bother him. He still had to finish his job. He  _ had _ to, for his friends, for the greater good. 

The next time Jussipo looked down, he could scarcely see his fingers anymore, vision dimming. It took losing his vision for Jussipo to realize that he was dying, and that if he stayed there in the darkness, he might not be able to come out of it. He cast a wary glance at where he’d come from. He could go back now, tell the others there was nothing in the darkness, but he found himself unable. He had died already. He was the only one who could do this.

Jussipo continued walking, feeling like he had spent a lifetime in the darkness, starting to forget what the sun felt like, or rain, or anything that wasn’t darkness. He was starting to think he should back, while he still could, if he still could. But then he heard it: a voice speaking in the distance. Jussipo followed, walking as quickly as he could only to collapse mid-stride, falling to his knees. He tried to stand up but found that he couldn’t. He was so close though! He had to make it! Why did it have to happen now while he actually heard something? With a dark realisation, Jussipo remembered that he had to make his way back. He couldn’t stay in the darkness. If he stayed he was dead again, or worse, trapped in the darkness. 

He made a second attempt to rise but couldn’t. Jussipo tried not to panic. He still had two good arms. If he couldn’t walk, then he could crawl. Only...only he couldn’t see and didn’t know where he’d come from. He could have been walking in circles the entire time and he wouldn’t have known it. He was so stupid! He should have gone back while he still could. Jussipo tried hard not to panic, but it grew harder and harder not to so, his breathing becoming loud and erratic. 

Suddenly, he heard something - someone heading toward him. 

“Are you lost?” they asked.

Jussipo tried to answer, but he felt his throat close up, his mouth too dry, and the words escaped him. 

“You shouldn’t have come. Now look at you, the state of you. You’re a mess,” the voice said. 

_ Was it him? _ Jussipo wondered. It could be, but Jussipo had never met Viridian, never heard his voice or even known what he’d looked like. Perhaps this whole idea was doomed from the start. 

“There’s no need to despair. All you have to do is go back and everything will be alright, you’ll see. But you can’t come back. You see that now, don’t you? Be a good boy and go back.”

Jussipo blinked and when he opened his eyes, he was in the field again, the beautiful green field with the hills and the blue sky looming over him, his friends looking at him with concerned faces. He gasped, feeling relieved to be somewhere where it wasn’t dark. And then he threw up and ran, as fast and as far as he could until he couldn’t see his friends, couldn’t see anyone, until he was far away enough that he could see the sea rising up before him. 

He collapsed against a nearby rock, gasping for air, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. He let himself fall to his feet, clutched his arms around his knees, feeling the terror clinging to him still. He had to get it all out now before they found him. Jussipo loved his friends, he really did, but he didn’t want them to see him like that. Piak and Foldo were already so worried about him. He didn’t want to worry them so much. He was Piak’s big brother and big brothers were brave and fearless and didn’t cry over anything. 

Jussipo just needed a few moments to himself, where he didn’t have to be so brave, and didn’t have to hide anything. He would be fine afterwards. He just needed a moment to breathe. 

And then that moment was over as Jussipo heard footsteps approaching. He forced a smile on his face, forcing the fear down, somewhere no one could see it.

“Jussipo! There you are! We were worried about you!” Piak cried, rushing over and embracing him. 

“There you are, pipsqueak! I was wondering what took you so long,” Jussipo told him, reaching over to pat his brother on the back.

Piak frowned. “Are you alright? You scared us back there. You were turning blue and pale. I …” Piak looked away. “I thought you were dying all over again,” he confessed.

Jussipo’s eyes widened. He certainly had looked like he was dying in the darkness but he hadn’t thought it was happening to him in the real world as well. “Really? Well, you don’t have to worry about me because I’m fine,” Jussipo reassured him, feeling the terror and despair fading. 

Jussipo turned as he heard the others approaching, looking all terribly out of breath.

“I told you I’m the fastest!” Piak exclaimed proudly. 

“No one ever denied you weren’t,” Foldo said, coming up beside them, giving Jussipo a worried look. 

Jussipo smiled at him, feeling better and better by the moment. Foldo was here. Jussipo didn’t have to worry anymore. Nothing terrible could ever happen with Foldo there. 

“Why...did you...run away from us?” Arman asked between breaths.

Jussipo looked down, feeling his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. In his rush, he really hadn’t thought of a reason to justify running away or vomiting. “I was … embarrassed,” Jussipo said lamely.

Nobody looked like they believed the lie, but no one pressed him on the matter either, much to Jussipo’s relief.

“Are you alright?” Tiuri asked, looking terribly concerned, adding to Jussipo’s guilt. 

“I’m fine,” Jussipo said softly. 

“Did you learn anything?” Lavinia asked. 

Jussipo looked down to his lap. “No. I’m sorry. There was a voice, but I couldn’t see who it belonged to, and I never met Viridian so I couldn’t determine that it was him. I’m sorry,” Jussipo told them.

Lavinia sighed. “No, it’s fine. It was never a guarantee we’d learn anything. At least you tried,” she said with a weak smile.

“We should get going,” Tiuri told them. “We have a long trip ahead of us.”

Foldo took Jussipo’s arm and helped him to his feet. Jussipo smiled at him, feeling warm and safe until he saw the knowing look on Foldo’s face. 

Piak rose to his feet as well, dashing off to tease Arman about his vomit-covered boots while Foldo waited with Jussipo. 

“You’re not fine,” Foldo said simply, the same worried look on his face. 

“Don’t,” Jussipo told him.  _ Not now _ , he thought, not when he had been so close in successfully banishing all the dark thoughts from his mind. 

Foldo didn’t listen, wrapping his arms around Jussipo and pulling him close. Jussipo struggled for a moment, wanting to tell him that he was being silly and fussy, but the words never came out. Instead, all the fear and terror he’d felt before came rushing back in one swell swoop, and he cried instead. Jussipo buried his face on Foldo’s shoulder, crying, telling him everything he’d seen and felt.

Jussipo felt a second pair of arms wrap around him. He didn’t even have to look down to know it was Piak. Who else could it be?

Foldo stroked his back, whispering soothing words into Jussipo’s ear. 

“I’m so sorry, Jussipo!” Lavinia cried. “If I had known it would be so terrible, I never would have suggested it. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Jussipo. I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Tiuri told her. “None of us could have known.”

“I don’t want to go back. Ever! Don’t make me go back,” Jussipo cried. 

“And you won’t have to. No one’s going to make you,” Foldo promised.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve gone and ruined my good shoes, Jussipo. I hope you know that,” Arman said lightly.

“Arman!” Lavinia scolded him. Jussipo could easily imagine the glare she was giving him. Jussipo knew what he was trying to do and appreciated it. Out of everyone, Arman had been the closest to treating him like he normally would, which was completely welcome in comparison to Piak and Foldo’s constant worrying. There really was only so much worry one person could take.

Jussipo laughed, pulling away from Foldo. “It does actually,” he said, looking down to Arman’s boots, which were indeed covered with filth. “Now they look lived in. Really, you should be thanking me. People would have tried stealing them before and now they won’t want to!”

They all laughed at that.

“Seriously, though, you scared us, and we all promised no more secrets and that means admitting when you’re scared,” Arman reminded him.

“We’re all scared, Jussipo, but we’re together so that means we don’t have to face anything alone,” Tiuri told him.

“I know,” Jussipo said, sniffing. “I make no promises, but I’ll try.” Jussipo didn’t like to worry his friends, and he certainly didn’t like or want to think about terrible things. He had always been good at not thinking about matters that worried him. There was no point in worrying about what he couldn't control, after all, but he could admit he hadn’t handled the whole situation well. And it was nice to know that the others cared about him so much, that he didn’t have to hide, that they would comfort him when he needed it most. It was a nice feeling, being surrounded by friends who cared so much about him. It filled with a warmth that chased away any fear he had left.

“Thanks. I really mean that,” Jussipo told him.

“And you’re fine now?” Arman asked, looking critically at him.

“Yes, I promise,” Jussipo told them.

“Good, because you cost an hour with your blubbering and we’re miles away from the closest inn. I swear if my boots are stained forever, I’m making you pay for it,” Arman warned him.

“I’ll be happy to pay for it, Arman. I don’t have any money but you can use my lute to pay for the replacements,” Jussipo said cheerfully.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll pay for it myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY IT'S SO LONG. Jaro's storyline converges with the group's in the next chapter so this particular plot point needed to end in this chapter. 
> 
> For those of you that didn't like Jaro's povs well then I have good news for you in that there aren't going to be anymore. 
> 
> The stuff with the dreams will be explained, don't worry. I don't leave loose plot threads hanging. It'll just be explained later. 
> 
> Lastly, we will see more Viridian soon. If a sympathetic depiction of him isn't your speed then this might be a good place to stop reading.
> 
> Thanks to those who have been leaving comments. You are slowly keeping this story alive.


	6. A Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiuri and the group come to an agreement with Iona and Jaro. Jabroot makes it to Dangria. Arman makes a hasty decision while Iona makes a desperate move.

“There’s something we need to settle before we join the others,” Iona told Jaro as they rode back to the closest town.

“What’s that?” Jaro asked, keeping his eyes on the road before. It was empty now, but there was bound to be strangers from the crowd. 

“We have to get our stories straight before we see them,” Iona said.

Jaro pulled on his horses’ reins, stopping. “Are you suggesting we keep bits of information to ourselves? Don’t see the point in that, really,” Jaro said dismissively.

Iona rolled her eyes at him. It figures that Jaro would miss the point, again. “Not that! They’re not going to trust us, not right away. We must be sure to say the right things at the right moment, and that means not losing your temper, or threatening people right away,” Iona warned him.

Jaro scoffed as he spurred his horse to move again. “You’re no fun,” he said with scowl.

“I mean it, Jaro! Are you forgetting that Lavinia has power? She could blow us away as soon as she sees us! No, we must tread carefully and that means no stupid, impulsive actions. You think you can manage that for a day?” Iona asked, glaring at him.

Jaro sighed and nodded. “You’ll do all the talking and I’ll just sit back and listen…for once. There? You happy?”

It appeased Iona for the moment, but only for the moment. The truth of the matter was: she was worried. She hadn’t left on the best of terms and knew the others would be reluctant to trust her. Even Tiuri wouldn’t trust her now and Tiuri was as gullible and naïve as they came. Iona just hoped what they had was enough to convince the others to work together. Speaking of which…

“You’re not done with me, are you?” Jaro asked, a knowing look on his face. As much as Iona hated to admit it, he knew her as well as she knew him, so he knew she wasn’t exactly finished with him.

“The fire, you have to have it under control, otherwise you’ll be putting us all in danger,” Iona told him.

Jaro looked affronted by her words. “I can control the fire just fine!” Jaro said with a huff.

“When you’re awake, yes, but not when you sleep. What happened the other night – that can’t happen again, which means you have to tell me what happened exactly. Was it a bad dream?” Iona asked.

Jaro stopped again, avoiding her gaze as he spoke. “It wasn’t a bad dream, not exactly,” he said softly, a far-away look on his face like he was in the dream again. “I’m not sure it was a dream really. I was in the darkness again, only there was no voice this time, no prince lurking in the shadows. It was just a watermill and a woman with her daughter inside.”

Iona frowned. “That’s it?” she asked, expecting to hear something else.

“Yes, what else were you expecting? A dragon swooping in and gobbling me up whole? It was strange, but it was what it was. I couldn’t make sense of it either,” Jaro told her defensively.

It didn’t add up, didn’t make any sense. She had thought it was a nightmare that was making him lash out in his sleep, but it seemed like he almost …enjoyed it. Perhaps that was the point of it, something to draw him in, but why? And who would do such a thing? Was it the prince? It seemed unlikely as he wanted Jaro to defeat Lavinia, and Jaro couldn’t do that if he was trapped in a dream while he burned everything around him. It only left one possible scenario.

Iona looked at the other man, wondering if she should tell him. Jaro was a grown man, after all; he could be trusted with the truth. On the other hand, he was also brash, violent, impulsive, stubborn and selfish. Would he really take the truth well? Iona thought about what she would want if she were in his shoes and came to a firm decision.

“Jaro,” she said, trying to get his attention.

“Are you going to make any more comments about my dreams again, because I can’t really control what happens in them, you know-“

“Jaro!” she exclaimed

“What?” he asked irritably.

“I think the darkness has a mind of its own and it’s trying to take control of you,” Iona said simply, feeling there was no other way to say it.

Jaro’s eyes widened. “You got all of that from a dream?”

Iona shrugged. “It seems too …fabricated to be a simple strange and you said yourself that it was strange.”

“What would be the point in that, in controlling me? For all anyone knows, I’m still out to kill the girl,” Jaro asked, skeptical.

Iona shook her head. “It’s not the prince. The prince and the darkness are two separate beings with different goals in mind,” Ioan explained.

“You’re suddenly an expert now? The darkness is a being now?” Jaro asked, looking at her like she’d grown an extra head. “You do realize how ridiculous it all sounds?”

“I know!” Iona snapped. “But stop to think about it for a moment! The prince has his own goals and he was perfectly willing to let you go off on your own. If he really knew what you planned to do, he would have said or done something to you by now, so this is the darkness acting on its own.”

“Or the darkness could be acting on his behalf because it knows I’m planning on betraying the prince? There’s no point in speculating over matters we know nothing about. Perhaps your friends-“

“They’re not my friends,” Iona reminded him through gritted teeth.

“-perhaps they know more than we do. Look, I know what you’re trying to get at so let’s get to the point. The why doesn’t matter at the moment. You want me to control the fire while I sleep. Agreed. It would cause problems if your friends think I’m intentionally trying to kill them. So…how do we go about doing that?” Jaro asked.

Iona thought about it for a moment, wondering how does one stop oneself from spontaneously bursting into flames. “I do have one idea, but you’re not going to like it. Honestly, you’re probably not going to be getting much sleep for the next couple of days, I think,” Iona admitted.

Jaro groaned. “I had a feeling that might be the case. Fine. When you’re ready, just let me know,” Jaro said reluctantly, looking displeased with the entire prospect.

They spent the rest of the day investigating leads and trying to find clues as to where Tiuri and the others could be. Iona had known they’d returned to Dagonaut, but who knew if they were still there. For all Iona knew they were out on some quest or errand on Queen Alianor’s bequest. It wouldn’t hurt to ask while they travelled to Dagonaut.

By pure chance, Iona and Jaro overheard news of Tiuri and his friends spending a few days in Unauwen and were last seen heading east back over the Great Mountains that separated the kingdoms of Dagonaut and Unauwen.

Jaro rose to his feet, looking at her expectantly. “Well? What are we waiting for? I know of a path through the mountains that cuts travel by a few hours. It’s a bit treacherous, but if we hurry, we could catch them close to Westenaut,” Jaro told her.

Iona merely looked at him, entirely unamused. “Are you forgetting something?”

Jaro sighed, shoulders drooping. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” he admitted.

“Fat chance of that. Come on, I know the perfect spot for it,” Iona told him.

Iona took him to a secluded spot on a patch of dirt, situated atop a small hill. They were still close to the forest and town, but it was either risking a forest fire or a town fire, so Iona figured somewhere in between would be a good solution.

Jaro huffed as he laid down on the ground, looking up at the night sky. “So what’s your wondrous plan, oh illustrious leader, master and commander?” Jaro asked.

Iona scowled as she threw a wet blanket on Jaro’s face. “Should be thanking your dead friend for the idea. Fire can’t spark on wet logs, remember? If you’re wet, it’ll be harder to set anything on fire,” Iona reasoned.

“And that’ll work?” Jaro asked, looking at her skeptically again.

“One way to find out,” Iona replied.

Jaro sighed, laying down on his back as he covered himself with the wet cloth, shivering, eventually curling up into himself to keep himself warm. Iona almost felt sorry for him, but she reminded herself it was for the greater good.

He tossed and turned and flopped back onto his back. “I can’t sleep like this with you staring at me,” Jaro told her.

“Who says I’m even looking at you? How selfish can you get? Not everything is about you, you know,” Iona retorted.

Jaro opened one eye and found her looking at him. With a huff, he turned on his side and remained that way for a long time, eventually falling asleep. Iona was half-asleep herself at that point, but she had to stay awake, had to know if the simple plan worked, or if they had to resort to more drastic measures. She hoped not as they were going to lose sight of Tiuri and the others. While Jaro was an excellent tracker, proving how adept he was at tracking Tiuri when he was trying to deliver the letter, Iona didn’t want to confront the others in Dagonaut, or any place where it would be easy for someone to arrest her or Jaro. If they were alone, it would be easier to try to convince them to work together for the greater good. Iona was sure she could do it. She just needed a chance.

If it hadn’t been for the familiar smell of smoke, Iona wouldn’t have awoken up – she hadn’t even noticed she had drifted off. She found Jaro smoking through the wet cloth. It wasn’t on fire yet, but it might only be a matter of time. Iona tossed another wet blanket on top of him. The smoke stopped and it took a while for it to return but return it did. Iona could even see Jaro glowing through the blankets, wondering if that was something she should worry about.

Iona settled for kicking Jaro through the blanket, trying to suffocate the fire. Instead, she kicked a little too hard, sending the man rolling down the hill, stopping when he crashed against a tree. The crash had awoken Jaro from the stupor of sleep, looking furious at being awoken. He marched up the hill angrily until he reached Iona.

“I have good news,” Iona said, unfazed by the man’s anger.

“Which is?” Jaro asked as he started to pack his belongings.

“I’ve timed it and as long as you don’t sleep too long, you should be able to not set anything on fire. Did you have the dream again?” she asked.

Jaro didn’t respond, grumbling angrily as he climbed onto his horse.

“You’re not angry, are you? I didn’t do it on purpose, and you have to admit it was a little funny,” Iona told him as she rushed to ready her horse.

Jaro remained silent as he waited for her, pulling on his horse’s reins, beginning their journey once more. After a long moment of silence, Jaro finally spoke up. “It wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny. You have to admit,” Iona said with a grin.

“Maybe a little, but I know you did it on purpose, you little brat,” Jaro said, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Iona shrugged. “Maybe. I suppose you’ll never know,” she said casually, spurring her horse to a gallop.

“I knew it! Get back here! We’ll see how you like it when I throw you off your horse!” Jaro shouted.

Iona laughed. “But first, you’ll have to catch me! Think you can catch me, old man?” Iona teased.

That ignited a fire in the man’s eyes as he spurred his horse to move faster.

Iona wasn’t worried about him catching up to her and throwing her off her horse, or losing, or Jaro being angry at her. She was worried about what they had to do, what the others would say, whether they would accept them or not. Iona couldn’t think about what to do if they wouldn’t help them, not that she’d allowed that anyway. She’d find a way, even if that meant forcing them to look at the problem from her perspective, even if it meant pulling a dagger out and threatening them. She wasn’t going to lose everything she had, what little of it there was, not for anything, not when Jaro was finally looking at her like a partner, not when she was close to finally being happy and having everything she wanted in her life. No one was going to stop her, not if she could help it, no matter what.

*

Tiuri and the others were at the half-way point in returning to Dagonaut, just finished the climb through the Great Mountains. Tiuri still wasn’t sure if it was the right decision to return to Dagonaut. Sure, the others had agreed, while Arman had reluctantly agreed, which comforted Tiuri a little, but he couldn’t help but feel his judgment was clouded. Despite what the others thought, Tiuri was conflicted about traveling to Eviellan. On the one hand, it was his homeland, a place he had never known and would now have a chance of doing so. But he had never been there, didn’t even remember what it was like living there. Could such a place still be home even if he had no memories of it? He was filled with equal parts of dread and excitement, not entirely sure if either emotion was appropriate. They weren’t going there to sightsee, after all. They had an important mission to carry out, but …still, it was his home. Perhaps he would learn a little of himself while they were there.

Their journey so far had been, thankfully, uneventful. Jussipo seemed entirely recovered from his trip into the darkness. It had taken Tiuri a long time to convince Lavinia it hadn’t been her fault, which was a strange role reversal for the two of them as it was usually Lavinia who was trying to convince Tiuri that everything terrible that happened wasn’t his fault.

There were no strands of darkness to fight and no one lurking in shadows. At least, Tiuri thought with a frown, not that he had known of.

Ahead of them, on the isolated, dirt road stood two figures standing by the side, looking almost like they were waiting for them. Tiuri felt himself immediately grow stiff, his hand reaching over to the sword on his hip. He hadn’t thought he would need to use, hoped not to, but perhaps that was too optimistic of him. Then again, they could just be travelers needing help. Not everything they encountered had to be dangerous or out to hurt them. Perhaps Lavinia’s cynical nature was starting to get to him.

Lavinia noticed right away, her hand pulling out the small dagger she kept hidden about her person. Jussipo, Piak and Foldo appeared not to have noticed yet as Tiuri could still hear them chatting about something. Before he could warn them, Arman shushed them, gesturing to the lone figures on the road.

As they approached the pair, Tiuri noticed the familiar glint of steel armor and a red cloak. A red rider, Tiuri thought to himself, but not just any Red Rider, but the one that had changed all the way through Dagonaut, the one who had ambushed them at Unauwen, Jaro. And standing next to him was someone Tiuri never thought he’d see again: Iona. She looked grim, with a nervous look on her face, like she knew she was in for an uncomfortable conversation.

“What are you doing here?” Tiuri asked as he pulled up to a stop.

Iona opened her mouth to speak when a dagger went flying by head, lodged in a tree behind her. Jaro growled, immediately standing in a fighting stance, looking ready to fight them with his bare fists.

“Arman!” Foldo scolded him.

“What? We know we can’t trust her…at all. Or did you all forget what happened in Unauwen only a few months ago? If it hadn’t been for her, maybe Jussipo wouldn’t have died at all!” Arman reminded them. Iona looked guilty at the mention of her former friend.

“But he isn’t dead! Not anymore,” Foldo told him in turn.

Iona’s eyes widened as she looked over them until she found Jussipo riding by Foldo. Tiuri would have thought she’d be relieved to see Jussipo alive based on the guilt he’d seen on her face, but instead, she looked almost devastated. Tiuri wasn’t sure what to make of that. The news seemed to have stunned her into silence until she shook her head, regaining her focus.

“We don’t mean you any harm. I promise. We’re unarmed. You can search us if you like. All we want is to talk,” Iona told them.

Sure enough, there was a pile of weapons on the other side of the road, out of reach.

“As if you wouldn’t have some stashed on your person out of sight. I know you, Iona, and I know you wouldn’t leave yourself completely harmless,” Arman said, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He turned to Tiuri. “We can’t trust her. We should just tie them up and report them to the local authorities. We don’t need to trouble ourselves with the likes of them.”

The remark earned a scowl from Jaro, who clenched his hands into fists.

Iona turned to address Tiuri alone. “I know I’ve given you no reason to trust us, but we really just want to talk. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have to be. Think about it, Tiuri. We left on bad terms since we saw each other last. You really think I’d risk coming back unless it was for something important?” Iona told him.

“We can’t listen to what she says! Remember how she tricked you last time! You can’t fall for it a second time. That’s how she gets you,” Arman argued.

“Tiuri,” Iona pleaded again, looking at him desperately. “Please, listen. We need your help. We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Tiuri hesitated. It was one thing to want to talk. Tiuri could reject such an offer, but she was asking for his help and that was an entirely different matter. Tiuri had never turned anyone down who needed help.

Iona seemed to realize this as she continued. “You’re a knight now, Tiuri. You think I didn’t hear about that? What kind of knight would you be if you walked away from someone, unarmed, begging you for your help?” she argued.

Tiuri knew then that she had him. He could never live with himself if he walked away from her, not while she was asking for his help. He would just have to risk walking into a trap.

Arman scoffed. “What a load of bollocks! Tell me, you’re not believing this, Tiuri,” Arman said.

Tiuri didn’t answer him. “I’m going to hear her out. The rest of you are welcome to wait here for me if you like,” Tiuri said,

“You can’t be serious. She’s playing you for a sap! It’s a trap and you know it,” Arman told him.

“That may well be, but I can’t sit by when someone’s asking for my help. It’s a matter of principle,” Tiuri said as he dismounted from his horse. He knew the others wouldn’t understand, but he had to do it, even if his better instincts were telling him not to.

“Well, if you’re going then I’m going too. Honestly, Tiuri, you’re too trusting for your own good sometimes,” Lavinia said, dismounting as well. Tiuri had hoped she would see it his way. It was nice to have someone on his side for once. 

“I know. That’s why I have you here with me,” Tiuri told her with a smile.

“One of these days your principles are going to get us all killed, Tiuri, just you wait,” Arman grumbled as he reluctantly as he descended from his horse.

Iona grimaced. “Are they always like that?” she asked Arman.

Arman nodded. “Jussipo and Foldo are worse if you can believe it. I’m only thankful he doesn’t have his lute with him anymore. The singing alone is driving me insane,” he answered.

Iona turned to look at Jussipo, an intense look in her eye that Tiuri didn’t like. He supposed he should have expected her to act that way. It wasn’t like Arman and Lavinia had openly welcomed Jussipo back with open arms. It was to be expected that Iona would be suspicious.

“How did that happen anyway? How does a dead man come back to life?” Iona asked, eyeing Jussipo carefully, like she expected her to attack her at any moment.

“It’s a long story,” Jussipo told her.

“Why don’t you enlighten me? I’m sure it’s not that long,” Iona said with the same suspicious glint in her eye.

“We’re really going to help her? After everything she’s done? She doesn’t deserve it,” Piak exclaimed, his eyes filled with fury, which frankly, surprised Tiuri from its intensity. Perhaps that wasn’t surprising either. Piak had lost his brother and here Tiuri was willingly agreeing to help the person who indirectly caused his death.

“I agree,” Arman muttered under his breath.

“Piak, it’s not as simple as that,” Foldo tried to explain.

“No! I’m not helping either of them. They’re terrible people and we shouldn’t help them,” Piak argued stubbornly, crossing his arms against his chest.

Jussipo sighed. “I know, Piak, but sometimes doing the right thing means doing something you don’t want to do and that includes helping people you don’t like. Remember how much of an arse Arman used to be? You gave him a chance and now he’s our friend. Who knows? Maybe we could all be friends again,” Jussipo told him.

Piak’s face softened a bit. “But she’s part of the reason you died. You’re not really going to help her?’ Piak asked.

“Sure, I am! If your older, much more handsome brother can set his personal feelings aside to help someone in need then I’m sure you can do it as well,” Jussipo told him.

Piak looked reluctant but eventually nodded, making his way to the others with a gloomy expression on his face.

“We shouldn’t talk out here in the open. Come on, there’s an old abandoned shack nearby,” Iona told them.

Iona headed toward a copse of trees behind her while Jaro had left to pick up the weapons they had left by the road. Tiuri wondered about the other man, who reacted aggressively when threatened but was otherwise quiet and calm, calmer than Tiuri had ever really seen him. It really did feel like a trap, but Tiuri wasn’t sure what to do about it. He had agreed to help and he would never go back on his word.

They followed behind her, pulling on the reins of their horses as they walked through the woods.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Lavinia assured him, then she turned to address Ardanwen. “And you can keep an eye on the Red Rider. You can easily handle him, right, Ardanwen?”

Ardanwen let out a hearty neigh, which Tiuri took it to mean that he agreed with the plan, not that Tiuri had any doubts. If anything, Ardanwen was likely the most skilled and competent of them all.

Iona lead them through the trees, which opened to an open field upon a hill, where a small, wooden shack stood. Two horses, likely belonging to Iona and Jaro, were there waiting for them, teetered to a nearby tree.

Tiuri brought up the lead with Lavinia by his side, Arman close behind, Jussipo, Foldo and Piak behind him and Jaro bringing up the rear.

Iona waited for them, walking alongside Tiuri once he caught up to her. “How did Jussipo come back?” she asked again, almost urgently.

Tiuri exchanged a puzzled look with Lavinia. He wasn’t sure why that was so terribly important and why it bothered Iona so much. He had thought she had some guilt regarding his death, but her urgency didn’t appear to stem from guilt, but from some other emotion entirely. Tiuri wasn’t sure if it was entirely wise to trust her with the truth…but if Tiuri knew Iona, it was that she was rather persistent about what she wanted and would likely find out either willingly or through some other more painful means.

He turned to Lavinia, who shrugged. Ardanwan neighed softly, which Tiuri took it to mean he didn’t hate the idea.

“The darkness brought him back. We don’t why or how, but it did and now he’s here. We – It’s him, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Tiuri told her. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to tell her but Tiuri would rather tell her than have her or Jaro harass the others over the information. They’d all been through enough and deserved some peace, even if it was only to last for a little while.

Iona’s eyes widened and then narrowed as she became deep in thought. She glanced back, exchanging a look with Jaro, spurring him to join her at the head of the group where the two whispered something back and forth to each other.

“That’s not good,” Tiuri told Lavinia, grimacing, feeling that perhaps telling Iona wasn’t the best idea.

Lavinia scoffed. “She was bound to find out eventually. Let her mull it over with her precious Red Rider if she wants. They’re still outnumbered no matter how you look at it in all the way that matter even if she does decide to do something terrible,” Lavinia assured him.

Tiuri wasn’t so sure but there was little he could do about it but to ignore the worry settling in the pit of his stomach. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

At last the group reached the top of the hill where the shack stood. The shack itself was leaning to the side, looking like it was a single push from collapsing.

“We should have some privacy in there,” Iona told them, gesturing to the decrepit shack. “The place has been deserted for some time, and it’s far enough from the road not to attract travelers.”

“Great. Let us take care of the horses and we’ll join you inside,” Tiuri told her as he took Ardanwen’s reins from Lavinia and pulled him to a nearby tree. The others were quick to follow suit while Iona and Jaro waited for them by the shack.

“How much do you want to bet that it’s a trap?” Arman grumbled to no one in particular.

Tiuri sighed. “Let’s just see what she has to say before we start throwing accusations around,” Tiuri told him, even if he only half-believed what he was saying at this point.

When they returned to the shack, Tiuri found that Iona had opened the door to the shack and stood there waiting in the doorway for them. Tiuri ignored the feeling in his stomach as he entered the small building with Lavinia walking in behind him. Arman was the next to follow. When Jussipo tried to enter, he found Iona blocking the doorway.

“Iona, what gives? I don’t know if you noticed but you’re sort of blocking the doorway there,” Jussipo said as he tried to squeeze past Iona to no avail.

She ignored him, turning to Tiuri instead. “I came here to talk to you and not…it,” she said, pointedly looking away from Jussipo.

“It?! It?! I’m an ‘it’ now, is that it? I’m standing right here listening to everything you’re saying!” Jussipo exclaimed.

“Why? What do you have against my brother?” Piak cried out.

Arman’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Oh, so now you don’t want to talk with Jussipo around, is that it? You never had anything against him before, and I don’t see how that should change now all of a sudden,” Arman said defensively. It warmed Tiuri to see his friends defending each other even if it meant they had another argument on their hands. Tiuri was getting tired of those.

“I don’t remember doing anything to offend you, Iona, but if I did, I’m really sorry for it,” Jussipo said softly, sounding almost sad.

“I know you lot won’t listen, so this is how it’s going to go. I’m willing to share what I know with you and what I have to tell you is important, but under one condition: I won’t say anything in front of  _ him _ ,” she said, gesturing to Jussipo.

“No deal. It’s either all of us or none of us,” Arman proclaimed with his arms crossed against his chest.

Iona scoffed. “Typical,” she muttered to herself.

“How important is it?” Lavinia asked.

Arman turned on her with a betrayed look on his face. “I can’t believe that you’re considering this! Jussipo’s our friend and we should stand up for him and not put up with whatever nonsense she’s got into her head about him. We all agreed,” Arman reminded her sternly.

“It’s very important, considering you-know-what and a certain someone, but,” Iona turned to spare a suspicious glance Jussipo’s way, “I won’t say more until you agree to my condition.”

“Listen, everyone, I appreciate all this hubhub about me, but even I can see when we need to do something for the greater good. If I need to step away for us to learn something, then so be it. It’s a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. I’ll just wait outside,” Jussipo told them, not waiting for any of them to chime in before walking away.

Piak turned to glare at Iona before walking away as well, joining his brother. Foldo looked torn between the two groups, but to Tiuri’s surprise, he stepped into the shack with them, leaving Iona to follow behind him, closing the door behind her.

“What about your Red Rider?” Arman asked, looking as cross as he ever was.

“He doesn’t need to be here for this,” Iona told them while she scrutinized Arman, face softening for a moment. “What’s with you? You’re grumpier than I remember you being. Is this about your father? I heard about what happened-“

“Let’s not talk about that. You wanted to talk so talk. We’re all listening,” Arman cut in before she could finish.

Iona nodded, closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if preparing herself for a battle.

“You don’t have to be afraid of us, Iona. I know we all didn’t part on the best of terms, but it doesn’t mean we have to be enemies. You’re safe here,” Foldo said softly.

Iona appeared surprised by the man’s gentle words. “It’s not that. I know how to take care of myself. It’s-it’s just important that you believe me, otherwise…” She steeled herself, back straightening as she looked Tiuri in the eye. “I know about the darkness spreading and about Prince Viridian. He’s back somehow,” she said.

“You’re sure of that? We all suspected as much, but we weren’t too sure as there was no manner to verify his actual involvement,” Tiuri asked.

Iona nodded. “Yes, of that I’m sure. Jaro spoke to him a few days back. He…he knows you’re working against him,” Iona admitted.

“What was Jaro doing talking to Viridian?” Arman asked, eyeing Iona.

“How? How did Prince Viridian speak to Jaro?” Lavinia asked.

Iona frowned as she thought. “Prince Viridian came to Jaro in a place of darkness. Jaro described it feeling like it was a dream. They made an agreement of some kind. Viridian gifted him some of his power,” Iona told them.

“You know what that means, don’t you? It means Prince Viridian can be anywhere, at any time,” Arman pointed out, giving Tiuri a significant look. Tiuri did know what that meant. If Prince Viridian could travel anywhere he wanted, then there might be no point to traveling to Eviellan, especially if Prince Viridian already knew they were coming and could escape at any moment.

“What kind of deal?” Lavinia asked, growing suspicious as well at this point.

Iona looked Lavinia straight in the eye, unafraid, as bold as she ever was. “To kill you, of course. There’s no one else to stop him and if you’re gone then he’ll have no one to oppose him,” she told them bluntly.

Lavinia paled, her suspicion faded away replaced by a grim look.

Tiuri felt his heart sink into his stomach. It was one thing to suspect that Prince Viridian was behind everything but quite another thing to know for certain that he was the person orchestrating everything, and worse, knew they were plotting against him and actively tried to recruit someone to kill Lavinia. Those weren’t good odds, Tiuri admitted to himself. It seemed like almost all the cards were stacked against them. They barely knew anything, where Viridian was or how to stop him and the darkness. He turned to Lavinia, taking her hand in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. It didn’t matter that they knew nothing as long as they figured it out together.

They all descended into a long silence, no one quite sure what to do with the information revealed to them.

“If Prince Viridian tasked Jaro with killing Lavinia then why are you here telling us about it?” Foldo asked quietly. It was a good point, Tiuri had to admit.

Iona hesitated, looking to her a moment before facing them. “Because he doesn’t want to do it, and – this is only a theory of mine – I think the darkness is trying to control him,” Iona said.

“What makes you think that?” Tiuri asked, remembering what his mother told him.

_ This is just like the stories back in Eviellan. When the darkness took over the land, dark, impossible events would occur…The darkness wouldn’t just affect the dead, Tiuri, but the land, the animals, people, too. The land would grow fallow. The animals would become aggressive and violent. The people, perhaps even more so. _

“He’s had strange dreams since he’s had ‘the gift’ and he’s losing control over himself. Viridian’s powers come from the darkness, right? I think it’s starting to take over him,” Iona said, a worried look on her face.

“I think you’re right,” Tiuri said.

Iona’s eyes widened in surprise. “You do? So you believe me?” she asked, looking taken a back that he believed her so quickly.

Tiuri nodded. “My mother said the darkness would take over the land, people, animals. If Viridian’s powers come from the darkness, it would make sense that someone gifted with darkness would slowly be consumed by that very darkness, just like everything else the darkness touches,” Tiuri told them.

Lavinia took the only chair in the room and collapsed on it. “Great, so you’ve come all this way to tell us that not only does Prince Viridian know we’re after him, but that he can be any place at once, eliminating any chances we have of finding him. And worse yet, he’s sending people after me to stop me from stopping him. How are we supposed to defeat him, Tiuri?” Lavinia asked with dismay, holding her head in her hands.

“I-“ For once, Tiuri was at a loss for words, and cursed himself for it. 

“Well, there’s no need to give up just yet,” Iona said sternly, fixing Lavinia with an unimpressed look on her face.

“Well, forgive us for thinking otherwise. You’ve just come and told us that everything we’ve planned for has been for nothing and we’re right back where we started,” Arman argued, glaring at the woman.

“Sorry, I forgot you were a bunch of ninnies,” Iona retorted.

“Iona, that’s not really helping anyone,” Foldo pointed out gently. “Is there something else you want to tell us?”

“Well, I was thinking back to what you told us about your powers, Tiuri. Well,” she turned to look at Lavinia, “Your powers, I should say. Remember how we found you with that man trying to burn your magic from you?” Iona asked.

“How could I forget?” Tiuri asked flatly, the incident quite clear in his mind. It was something he would never forget in his entire life, not even if he wanted to.

“He wanted your powers, but he had to take it from you, which means that the power can’t just come from nowhere. It must be taken or given freely, like what Prince Viridian did with Jaro, he gave him power willingly,” Iona said.

Lavinia looked up from her hands. “And if he gave his power away, even a small portion of it-“ Lavinia started.

“Then it must be weakening him, even just a little bit,” Arman argued.

Iona nodded eagerly. “Exactly! And he can’t take it back, otherwise he would have done so by now. He has to kill to take it back by force, which means-“

“He has to come and take it and with you and Jaro here with us, he won’t come to take it back, which means you’re both safe until he comes,” Lavinia finished for her.

“That’s your plan, then?” Tiuri asked, turning to Iona. “To weaken him?”

“Well,” Iona said almost sheepishly, “it’s just an idea. It’s not a plan yet, not until you’re in agreement. After all, the plan is worth nothing until you agree to go along with it, but yes, that is what I had in mind. Weaken Viridian, trap him somehow and have Lavinia deliver the final blow.”

“That’s almost a plan – a solid plan we can work with,” Tiuri said in amazement. It was better than what they had before anyway, and they knew so much more now. They were almost there, almost ready to face Viridian himself.

“We still have to lure him out and trap him somehow. If he can come and go from the darkness, it’ll be difficult to trap him,” Lavinia reminded them.

“I-I think I have an idea,” Arman said softly.

Iona scoffed. “This I have to hear,” she said eagerly.

Arman scowled at her. “I know how to lure him out. I can’t say how – I’m still thinking of the details – but I’m sure of it. Do you think a fortnight will be enough?” he asked them.

“Enough for what?” Foldo asked.

“Enough time to figure out how to trap him. I think I can lure him out, but it-it’s risky, and none of you will like it, but it’ll get the job done. I’ll have to go alone. That’s the only way it’ll work,” Arman said.

Tiuri looked skeptically at Lavinia, who shrugged again. “Let him try. We don’t have any ideas of our own anyway.”

“Fine,” Tiuri said reluctantly, unhappy with letting Arman go off on his own, but what choice did they have really? “Two weeks then.”

“Are you sure?” Arman asked.

“We’ve managed to get through this far. We’ll figure out how to trap him somehow,” Tiuri told him.

Arman nodded, a strange look crossing over his face before it was replaced by a determined expression. He made to leave, but Foldo stopped with a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure about this? Going at it alone? One of us can go with you. You don’t have to do it alone,” Foldo told him.

Arman patted the hand on his shoulder. “I-I appreciate the concern, Foldo, but it won’t work otherwise. If I’m going to convince Prince Viridian of anything, it’ll be best if it looks like I’m on the outs with everyone. I don’t think I’d be able to convince him otherwise,” Arman said adamantly.

Foldo nodded, reluctantly pulling away from the other man.

“Two weeks then. Meet at the Seastone Tower.” Arman turned to look at them one final time before heading out the door, heading off to fulfill his part of the plan.

The feeling in the pit of Tiuri’s stomach hadn’t left him yet, despite all they had learned. They were closer, closer than they ever had been to stopping Viridian, but whenever they were close before, there was always a stumbling block in their way. And now Arman was gone, leaving Tiuri feeling a little bereft at it all. He liked it when they were all together as if he could protect all his friends if he could keep an eye on them, help them if he could see trouble coming. It hadn’t helped Jussipo last time though, Tiuri reminded himself and there was nothing he could to help Arman now, not with him traveling somewhere where even they couldn’t help him. Tiuri just hoped it didn’t end up with another friend dead. He grew tired of his friends dying.

Tiuri turned to share a hopeful look with Lavinia. She appeared relieved by the whole discussion, which Tiuri was happy to see even if he couldn’t ignore his own worry churning his stomach. Lavinia had the biggest burden of them all to carry and if her burden was alleviated by even just a little bit, then Tiuri was happy that they had agreed to talk with Iona, even if it meant that Arman left them. 

“Arman will be fine,” Lavinia told him as if reading Tiuri’s mind.

“Of course, he’ll be. He’s no slouch, despite all the teasing we gave him,” Iona reminded him. “He’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” Tiuri said absent-mindedly with a wan smile.

That still left them with the problem of finding out how to trap Prince Viridian, a man who could travel through darkness and dreams now. How does one go about trapping someone like that? Why were they always tasked with doing the impossible? Tiuri wished his life could be simpler at times.

*

Dangria, the City of the East as it was called, sat on the other side of the Great Mountains, making it an arduous journey for those coming from the Dagonaut side of the border, which Jabroot was. Jabroot didn’t know much about Dangria, other than what he learned from Prince Viridian’s followers and what he had learned on his journey thus far.

The tall gates loomed almost ominously above him with their even taller towers. It wasn’t like Mistrinaut at all, with its open courtyard and streets where any traveler could come through at any given time. The gates were the only way in and out, where any travelers had to be inspected by town guards. Jabroot passed through with the same amount of curiosity and suspicion he’d garnered when he first arrived in Mistrinaut, but Jabroot was accustomed to that, grown accustomed to the looks he’d always received from others in Dagonaut, and now Unauwen. He’d received such looks even when he was working under Prince Viridian, despite being his most trusted agent. Knights and lords from Dagonaut and Unauwen had both looked at him with such suspicion, something that had never faded despite the loyal work he’d done for the prince. But Jabroot didn’t want to think about the prince, not if he could help it.

“Tell me, does the Mayor of Dangria still rule?” Jabroot asked the guard who was inspecting him.

The guard shook his head, a wide grin forming on his face. “Didn’t you hear? We finally managed to oust the fat bastard. He’d been squeezing us for tithe and using it to rebuild city hall into his own personal palace, like he was a king or something. Hmph! When word got out he was one of Prince Viridian’s allies, he was imprisoned and awaits his trial now in the dungeons of the very place he helped build. Serves him right, I say, for taking and taking and leaving the town to rot for all he cared,” the guard informed him.

That was unfortunate, and not at all what Jabroot had been hoping to hear. The former mayor of Dangria, Jabroot remembered, had been an ally of Prince Viridian, always sending messages through carrier pigeons about various activities, troop movements, or any other potential threats to Prince Viridian while he was still in power. It would have been an easy task to locate him and question him, but the mayor’s imprisonment complicated matters. “That sounds wonderful,” he said instead, “I certainly hope your next Mayor isn’t quite as …unpleasant.”

“You and me both. Go on through. Market is as good a place as any to stock up on goods,” the guard added upon looking at Jabroot’s travel worn boots and cloak.

“I may just do that. Thank you, good sir,” he said quietly, before passing through the gates and heading into town.

Dangria was a strange place, at least for someone like Jabroot, then again, all towns were strange to Jabroot, who had grown up in a small village made up of huts instead of stone houses. He was greeted by rows upon rows of houses, streets and alleyways looking far too cramped for Jabroot’s liking. A marketplace stood in the center of it all with various stalls set up with merchants selling their wares, clustered around a grand fountain. Along the marketplace was a large, strangely yellow building with a gate and tower rising up behind it, and a grand marble staircase leading up to it. Remembering the guard’s words, Jabroot surmised this must be city hall or the former mayor’s residence.

Jabroot’s initial plan had been to contact the mayor, draw upon their shared ties to Prince Viridian to extract information from him. He supposed it could still be done. Jabroot just had to find a different method in which to contact the man. He sat on the fountain, watching the activity in the market while tracking the guard movements. He eventually switched locations as to not draw suspicion upon himself, looking from an alleyway, browsing the wares in the market, even going as far as buying a new cloak for himself all the while watching city hall from the corner of his eye until he was sure he had the pattern down.

Jabroot remembered spotting an inn close to the city gates and decided to return there for the night until the right time came, buying himself dinner and a room for the night. He lingered in the inn, watching and listening to the other patrons as they drank and talked, feeling like he always felt in places like that, like an outsider, always on the outside looking in. Jabroot wondered idly when he would stop feeling like that, when would he finally feel like he belonged. He hadn’t belonged in Eviellan, nor with the Unauwen or Dagonaut troops. It was only with Prince Viridian that he felt…Jabroot sharply reminded himself not to think about the prince. He would be rid of him soon, and then – then he would finally find peace, perhaps for the first time in his life.

When Jabroot noticed travelers and locals slowly dispersing, he took it as his sign to head to his room for the night. He waited there until even the most ardent drinker went away for the night, until the street and inn were both silent as the grave to strike. He left his room, made his way silently to the square again to where the yellow building stood. The dungeons, he recalled, were located beneath the city hall, so all he had to do was find a way inside. He had spotted a side door, one that wasn’t as heavily guarded as the main gate blocking the main entrance. He found the door to be locked, but with a simple lock, simple enough that Jabroot had no trouble unlocking it, surprising him with the lax security but he decided not to question his luck. He located another side door, which granted him access to the hall itself.

Inside the city hall, it was dark, looking almost deserted if it weren’t for the faint sounds of armored footsteps in the distance. Jabroot stuck to the shadows, keeping out of sight and listening to the footsteps as they drew close, ducking into doorways until they faded from view. The clever, smart thing to do would have been to investigate the hall out to find the dungeon beforehand during the day. It was city hall, after all, and it wouldn’t be out of place for people to come in and go, but Jabroot never had such luxuries. He was Eviellan, and it had always been clear to those who looked at him that he was so, immediately drawing suspicion from everyone. Jabroot was not ashamed of his heritage, and wouldn’t hide who he was for anything, even if it meant he drew suspicion everywhere he went. It was better this way, even if it meant Jabroot had to stumble around the hall until he found the right room.

Eventually he did find a door, which opened to reveal a staircase leading downstairs. He listened a while to see if anyone came out or in during their patrol, but no one ever did. Jabroot descended the steps as quietly as he could, scanning the hall for any rooms, cells, or anything that might hold an imprisoned man. It was until he reached the end of the staircase that he found what he was looking for: a long hall of cells. It looked strangely empty. Not a single guard on post or duty or wandering the halls or anything.

Jabroot quickly examined each cell, trying to see if he spotted anyone who might be the former mayor of Dangria. It was only when he reached the end of the hall that he found him, a short, fat man, lying in a patch of straw that served as a bed with a bucket in the corner to serve as a privy.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for someone. I was hoping you could assist me in the matter,” Jabroot whispered quietly as he glanced around for any guards passing through.

The man in the cell looked, for all intents and purposes, to be dead to the world, but he rose at Jabroot’s quiet, whispered words, turning to face him with eyes that glowed with a sharp, cruel glint. Jabroot had seen the look before, often in the eyes of knights in the Eviellan war and was not happy to see it there and then.

“And who, might I ask, is inquiring?” the man asked, his eyes narrowing before widening in recognition as they scanned his clothes. “You’re Eviellan, aren’t you? Prince Viridian’s man,” he told him.

“Are you the former mayor of Dangria? I have a task for him and him alone,” Jabroot told him in lieu of answering his question.

“That I am,” he informed him, standing up proudly as if his regal pose was supposed to confirm his identity.

“And are you still a loyal subject to Prince Viridian, Lord of the Rushing Rivers, Ruler of the Southern Realm of Unauwen?” Jabroot asked.

The man nodded eagerly, coming close to grip the bar that imprisoned him in his hands. “I am still. Have you come with a message from His Highness himself?” the man asked eagerly. “There have been whispers of darkness –  _ his _ darkness upon the land. There was even some sort of mob that assembled not far from here under his name. Tell me he’s returned, please say that he has.”

Jabroot hesitated, knowing choosing the wrong words now could cost him the man’s loyalty and he would get no answers from him. “He is gathering his power, but he has not yet gained his full strength. He has agents working on his behalf, such as myself to clear a path for his return,” Jabroot told him.

“You’ve come to free me, then? I have been a loyal servant to his Highness and would gladly serve him again in any task he sets for me,” the man said.

What use would Prince Viridian have for an imprisoned man who had lost all his power? Jabroot thought to himself, but it was not his place to say so aloud. “He has enemies still, and he is in need of some vital information, some of which only you hold.”

“I will gladly help his Highness in exchange for my freedom,” the man said with a hard glint in his eye. Jabroot knew what that meant, what the man was trying to communicate to him. He could push the issue, insist on it as per Prince Viridian instructions, but it had its risks, and Jabroot had never been the forceful type. He’d always been the kind of man for silent gathering of information, watching and listening from the shadows. He’d never been an enforcer and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. He had already done so much for the prince already. Jabroot wasn’t going to change even more of himself, give up another part of himself in service to the prince.

“Half now. Half at your release,” Jabroot told him.

The man stepped away from the bars, stroking his chin in thought before his gaze returned to Jabroot. “What do you wish to know?”

“There was a woman of high status that hailed from here. She left, journeyed to Mistrinaut and returned to Dangria a year or two later. Do you recall such a resident?” Jabroot asked. He knew it was a risk. The man could have lied to him about his identity, who he was, could even lie about what he knew but Jabroot had very little options at the moment, aside from church records, which Jabroot was not eager to peruse. It was a risk, Jabroot decided, that he had to take.

The man remained silent for a long time, began to pace in his small cell, muttering to himself.

“I’ve heard about you from the prince himself,” Jabroot started, catching the man’s attention again.

“You- You have?” he asked, his eyes shining with pride and joy. “What did he say?”

“He told me the Mayor of Dangria was a clever man, who worked with the Red Riders to inform him of troop gathering and movements here in the north. Such a man would have intimate knowledge of the important figures here in town and in neighboring estates, would be keen to the comings and goings of everyone in the vicinity and would remember a high-born woman leaving Dangria only to return a year later, perhaps looking changed from the journey. Of course, if you are who you say you are, then it should be no problem to tell me what I need. I am only here for the former mayor of Dangria, not some man claiming to be him,” Jabroot said softly. He wasn’t an enforcer, but he knew how to push. He only hoped it would be enough to get him what he needed.

The man’s nose flared in anger. “Of course, I am! I said so, didn’t I? A high-born woman, you said? I do remember such a woman. It wasn’t an important event, but it seemed strange for her to return so quickly to Dangria, not when she had claimed to want out of the city.”

“What else can you tell me about her?” Jabroot asked, feeling almost like his freedom was only moments away. All he needed was just a little more information.

“You release me and I’ll tell you the rest,” the man told him, crossing his arms against his chest and turning his back to him.

Jabroot frowned, hoped that wouldn’t be the case. “That’s almost nothing. Anyone could have invented a story like that in a moment’s notice. I need more, definitive proof that you are who you claim to be,” Jabroot said.

The man turned around, a puzzled look on his face. “Is this a test of some kind?” he asked.

Jabroot sighed heavily. “Yes, and you’re doing a miserable job of it. Tell me what I need to know and you’ll have your freedom. A true loyal servant to Prince Viridian would not argue so much,” Jabroot told him.

“And how do I know you’ll do as you’ll say? What’s to say you won’t leave me here to rot?” the man asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Jabroot had to admit that he had a fair point. “Prince Viridian is many things, but he has never been a liar. He is true to his word and as his…agent,” Jabroot had a difficult time saying it aloud, but continued as best he could, trying to appear unfazed by it. He would be free soon, he reminded himself. “I act in his stead. I will do as I have said I will. I will free you once I have the information I need. It may seem inconsequential to you, but it is of great importance to His Highness. You will have proven your loyalty once you complete the task given to you,” he told the man.

The former mayor of Dangria looked pensive, mulling it over before nodding. “Of course, it is as you say. I will prove my loyalty to my lord, and I trust, as his agent, you will keep your word. His Highness would deserve as much,” the man agreed.

Jabroot frowned, wondering if he had ever been so deluded in his devotion to the prince. Perhaps he had been once, when times were simpler and all he could see was the goodness of the man instead of the darkness lurking beneath. But now was not the time to think upon such matters, Jabroot reminded himself again, turning his attention to the man before him. “Go on then.”

The man looked almost sheepish now. “There isn’t much to the story other than that. She was a rebellious woman, hailing from an old, noble family here. There aren’t many left now as the war has left its mark even here in noble Dangria. She’s since married to a knight from the City of the West and left some years ago,” he told him.

That didn’t sound promising. Jabroot would have to travel across Unauwen itself to reach the City of the West, and it would take even longer to find such a woman, assuming she hadn’t left again, across the sea to another land, a fairer place than Dangria had ever been for her.

Perhaps the answer need not lie with the mother, but of her lineage. “What of her family? Did she hail from any mystical or powerful families? Anyone shrouded in the occult or magic?” Jabroot asked.

The former mayor of Dangria gave him a troubled look. “A mage, you mean? Here? In Dangria of all places?” The man laughed loudly, abruptly stopping when he remembered where he was. They both waited anxiously to see if any guard would investigate the noise. When none did, the man continued. “Dangria has never been a place of magic, and her people have been extraordinary at times, but never supernaturally so. Her family hailed from the North, past the Great Mountains, past the forests of the High Moon, and of those people, I know little of, but it is all I can tell you. If you are looking for magic, perhaps you should continue your search there.”

“And her name?” Jabroot asked

“Lady Edelin Tibout, married to Sir Hubert Helyes. She is likely known as Lady Tibout now, Lady Tibout of the City of the West,” the man told him.

It wasn’t what Jabroot had wanted, but it was more than he had known before speaking to the man. There was also the matter of whether to trust what he said or not. He seemed earnest in his loyalty to Prince Viridian, eager to show his support, but there was also a beady look in his eye, the kind that cruel, selfish, greedy men had and those kinds of men were never to be trusted, not truly anyway.

Jabroot turned as if to leave.

“Wait!” the man cried out, reaching for him beyond the bars of his cell. “You promised. You gave me your word – Prince Viridian’s word that I would be freed,” the man reminded him.

Jabroot stopped mid-step, cursing himself for ever making such a promise. Truth be told, men like the former mayor disgusted Jabroot to his very core. Serving Prince Viridian had been difficult, yes, and Jabroot had committed such terrible deeds under his command, but there was at least a goal, misguided as it was, to do good. Men like the mayor weren’t like that at all, and here, Jabroot had promised to free him, to let such a man loose among society after he’d been caught and awaiting sentencing...but he had promised and Jabroot never went back on his word.

He turned, kneeled and placed a pick on the floor for the man within reach. “You have the tools you need,” Jabroot said simply, feeling that it was more than generous, certainly more than he would have liked to have done, which was to leave the man to rot in his cell. Jabroot consoled himself with the fact that he had done worse things. He only wished that he had grown past committing terrible deeds for even more terrible reasons.

Jabroot didn’t wait for the man to protest, making his way through the dark again. It didn’t take long for him to make his way out of the building now that he knew where everything was and was even quicker to make it back to room at the inn with no one the wiser.

When morning came, Jabroot arose later than he would like, broke his fast with a bowl of gruel and made his way to the market, eager to be gone from the place before anyone could begin accusing him of having anything to do with the former mayor’s escape. It was quiet in the town square with no news of the mayor. Perhaps the man had escaped with no one noticing, which seemed unlikely with how unpopular the man was, or he was still there, trapped in the cell, still trying to pick his way out of his cell. Either way, it was none of Jabroot’s concern now.

Before he could leave town, Jabroot needed to restock on his supplies, wandering through the market to buy everything he needed. In the middle of his shopping, he spotted  _ him _ , the man Jabroot had never hoped to see again.

“Have you found it then? The source of her power?” the prince asked without preamble, looking harried and troubled.

Jabroot frowned, scanning the crowd to see if anyone else could see the man, but none did, appearing as if nothing had occurred at all. Jabroot motioned for the prince to follow him down a deserted alleyway, far away from the hustle and bustle of the people in the square.

“You appear troubled, Your Highness. Has something happened?” Jabroot found himself asking without thinking. He really didn’t want to know, and asking would make it seem like he cared, which he didn’t, but he found the words coming out all the same, routine and habit betraying him once more for it such a thing he would have done before in the war.

Prince Viridian shook his head, pacing in the cramped alley. “Nothing to concern yourself with. I just need to know your progress,” the prince told him, a wild look in his eye that was hard for Jabroot to ignore.

“I’ve not uncovered as much as you would like, and it’s nowhere close enough to discovering the girl’s weakness,” Jabroot told him plainly, knowing it was better for the prince to know the truth rather than deceive him with half-truths.

The prince’s shoulders sagged, looking even more despondent than before, turning to examine the cobblestones at his feet. “I knew as much, but I hoped you would have done more. I fear I may not have much time,” the prince said softly, more to himself than to Jabroot. Something akin to pity stirred in Jabroot’s heart. He did his best to quash the feeling. 

“May I speak freely, Your Highness?” Jabroot asked.

The prince looked up from his feet, fixing Jabroot with an intense look, his eyes filled with so much emotion that Jabroot had to take a step back from the man. “Of course, Jabroot, you may always speak freely in my presence. The laws and norms of nobles and freemen have never applied to you and I. Our bond has always transcended that which separates nobility from the common man,” the prince told him.

Jabroot tried not to be moved by the man’s words. “Perhaps this path you are taking is not the best one. You have tread upon it once only to die. Must you die again for you to take another path, one which will not threaten to destroy you?” Jabroot asked.

The prince gave him a weak smile, placing a solid hand of Jabroot’s shoulder. “I know what my destiny is, and I must pursue it with all the force I can muster. I must not lose, not now, not when my power grows stronger. Destiny is not something any one person can fight, Jabroot, nor is it something I can ignore or set aside for my own selfish whims. I must follow through with what I was always meant to do. I see no other path for me. Either I succeed or I die. There is no other choice,” the prince told him.

Jabroot sighed. He had thought as much, but he had hoped it would be different this time. The prince had always been beyond his reach in a place where words could not reach him, so consumed he was with his path.

“If you say it is thus, then so it is,” Jabroot said simply, knowing there was nothing else to say to the prince.

The prince smiled at him, a true smile this time, the likes of which Jabroot had not seen for a long time, not when the war had taken the prince’s joy from him, as it had with so many others, and left him with scars and discontent and dreams that would haunt him for the rest of his life. “Thank you, Jabroot. I have my doubts, but you always know what to say. I will never forget how well you have served me, how truly fortunate I am to have such a man as you by my side,” the prince told him.

“Not forever,” Jabroot reminded him.

The smile faded from the prince’s face, and the same determined look he’d had during the war returned to his face. Jabroot almost felt bad for being the one to take away that small moment of peace for the man, but Jabroot needed his own happiness, too, and it would never come if he remained trapped by the prince’s side.

“Of course, I have not forgotten my promise to you. Find me what I need, and you shall be free.” With that said, the prince disappeared into the shadows and was gone from view.

Jabroot returned to the market to purchase what remaining supplies he needed, the prince’s words echoing in his head, feeling like he was trapped in the same loop he had been before. It wasn’t going to end like last time, not if Jabroot had anything to do with it.

With that thought in mind, he returned to a particular stall one last time and gathered what he needed. He returned to the city gates, pausing just outside and wondering what path to take now. Was it to be north, where magic may still reside among its people, or was it to be west to the Great City by the sea in search of a woman who had escaped Dangria long ago?

After mulling the options he had, Jabroot turned east instead, heading back to the Great Mountains.

*

Jussipo didn’t know what he had done to Iona, but he had hoped that by this point in time, he would have been free of suspicion. It had been terrible enough to have Arman and Lavinia doubting him, but they finally relented and trusted him now. Lavinia had even refrained from using her powers on him for reasons that were still unclear to Jussipo, but he was happy to remain ignorant for the time being. He was certainly not in any hurry to return to his grave.

The others were still huddled in the shack, speaking about whatever matter Iona deemed too sensitive for Jussipo to hear. Piak and Jaro, the Red Rider, remained outside with him while they waited. Jussipo wasn’t too keen on being alone with the Red Rider and was unhappy that Piak was outside with him keeping him company. There may be a temporary truce between them, but that didn’t mean Jussipo trusted the man, not entirely anyway. Piak, on the other hand, was glaring at the man and if looks alone could kill, the Red Rider would have surely died by now, not that the man paid any mind to them.

Jaro had assembled a small campfire, which remained unlit for the time being as it was still light out, and sat on the hard ground, taking out a small deck of cards and started shuffling them.

Jussipo’s curiosity got the best of him and he approached the man. He knew he shouldn’t be friendly towards him, especially considering the man’s fellow Red Riders had killed him, but Jussipo had never been the type to hold a grudge. They might have to work together, after all, and perhaps the best time to set such matters aside would be easier without the others looming over their shoulders.

The Red Rider looked up at him, a frown on his face. “You need something?” he asked.

“Don’t go near him, Jussipo! We can’t trust him,” Piak reminded him, pulling at his arm.

Jussipo shrugged it off, joining the other man on the ground. “What are you playing?” he asked, gesturing the cards.

“Pontoon,” the Red Rider told him as he shuffled his cards, keeping a wary eye on Piak, who was glaring at him.

“I’ll play too. Deal me a hand,” Jussipo said amiably.

Jaro arched an eyebrow, giving Jussipo a skeptical look. “You sure about that? Your boy over there isn’t too keen on the two of us being friends and playing cards together is mighty friendly,” Jaro said.

“Just deal me in,” Jussipo said dismissively, feeling excited all of a sudden. He’d never played cards like this before, not with other men. He’d always seen the other knights playing, and as a squire, Jussipo had always felt it wasn’t his place to join in. Technically, Jussipo thought with a frown, he was still a squire now as he had never been properly knighted, not even posthumously as far as he knew, but it didn’t matter now. Here was a chance to do something normal for once, something that was attached to the doom and gloom of their quest. Jussipo wished for normalcy most of all now, strange as it was as he had ever wanted before was to have adventures as a knight in exciting, faraway places, and now that he was on such a quest, he wished for the opposite. It was funny how life could be sometimes.

“You even know how to play?” Jaro asked, bringing Jussipo out from his thoughts, fixing him with that skeptical look again.

“I know. I know,” Jussipo assured him. He knew enough. How hard could it be after all?

“Perhaps Piak could deal for us?” Jussipo asked over his shoulder to where his brother stood watching them carefully.

“I want nothing to do with him,” Piak insisted loudly.

Jussipo shrugged, turning back his attention to the Red Rider. “Suit yourself, then. I’ll be here having fun with Jaro while you mope over there.”

Jaro watched him very carefully, his expression becoming guarded. Jussipo supposed that had something to do with the game. He probably didn’t want him to see what cards he had.

Jaro passed him two cards face down and did the same for himself, leaving the deck off to the side. Jussipo turned his cards over, tried not to let the confusion show on his face. He had never seen such cards before. Was that squiggle meant to be a one or a two, or did it mean something else entirely? What did the strange figures mean?

“You’re him, aren’t you? The dead one,” Jaro said suddenly, looking at his cards.

Jussipo felt…something at the other man’s words. He just wasn’t sure what exactly. Was it discomfort about being confronted by his own mortality? He had died, after all, and there was really no dancing around the subject. It certainly hadn’t bothered him when the others mentioned his death, but they were certainly more tactful and concerned about his well-being. Perhaps it was the man’s casual tone that made him feel uncomfortable. Either way, Jussipo tried not to let it bother him.

“Yes, and I do have a name. It’s Jussipo, not that Iona would have mentioned it I imagine, not unless she was complaining about me. She didn’t like my singing,” Jussipo explained upon seeing the puzzled look on the man’s face.

“Ah, no. She didn’t talk about any of you much, really. She’s not the type to talk about herself, or her past if you haven’t noticed,” Jaro pointed out.

“Hit me with another,” Jussipo told him, hoping to steer the conversation away from the suddenly uncomfortable subject of his death.

Jaro tossed him a card, face down. Jussipo hadn’t much luck making sense of the new card either. Perhaps these were Eviellan cards? It certainly would explain why they looked so different from the cards he’d normally seen.

“Another,” Jussipo said again.

Jaro fixed with a knowing look before passing him another card. Jussipo spent a long time staring at the cards, hoping they would reveal their secrets to him. Eventually the other man grew impatient and threw his cards down. “You’ve had enough time. Let’s see ‘em,” he demanded.

Jussipo reluctantly set his cards down, knowing immediately that he’d lost.

“You’re lucky we weren’t playing for money. I thought you said you knew how to play?” Jaro asked, taking the cards back and shuffling the deck once more.

“I do know. The cards, they just look different is all,” Jussipo told him defensively.

“They don’t have the numbers on them but the shapes, the drawings, they all mean something. I’ll show you,” Jaro explained as he pulled out a random card from the deck. It had an image of a faded, green dragon taking up the entirety of the card.

“This here is an ace so that means it can be either a one or an eleven. And this,” Jaro pulled out another card, this time it had two sets of sticks forming an ‘x,’ “and these are swords, two pairs of them, making them 4 of swords. You with me so far?”

Jussipo could see it, now that Jaro pointed out to him, feeling almost silly for missing it the first time around. “Swords, really?” Jussipo asked. They hardly looked like swords to him, looking more like a child’s imaginings of what a sword looked like.

“Yes, swords. These are a soldier’s pack. They aren’t going to be as nice and fancy like the kind you lordlings see,” Jaro explained.

“Oh, I see,” Jussipo said, feeling even more awkward now that Jaro had explained to him, but he had never been the type to let things bother him for long anyway. “Piak! Come here and see these strange cards Jaro has!” he called out to his brother.

Piak reluctantly came to his side, trying to appear disinterested in the whole affair, but even his curiosity was too great for him to ignore. Jussipo took the entire deck in his hands, handing a few of the cards to his brother to view.

“They are kind of strange now that you mention it,” Piak said, forgetting his earlier animosity toward the Red Rider.

Jussipo turned and found the Red Rider eyeing him curiously. “What?” Jussipo asked.

“You’re not what I expected,” Jaro said softly and left it at that. Jussipo didn’t know what to make of the other man’s words, whether to feel glad or terrible. Jussipo decided not to let it bother him, as it likely wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things anyway.

The door to the shack opened suddenly with Arman running out with a determined look on his face. He didn’t turn to face them, instead heading to his horse and riding off before either of them could say anything.

“What was that about?” Piak asked.

“Not sure,” Jussipo confessed. “I’m sure Foldo knows. He’ll tell us when they’re done with their secret, clandestine meeting.”

When Jussipo turned again, he found the Red Rider looking tense, alert, as if he was waiting for an attack to happen at any moment. 

It wasn’t long before the others emerged from the shack with Iona leading the group out, walking fast toward them. Jaro took his cards back, quickly shoving them back into his pocket.

It was Jussipo Iona turned to, much to Jussipo’s surprise. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

“Now you want to talk? Figures,” Piak said with a scoff, his animosity from before returning full force. 

“Sure,” Jussipo said easily, rising to his feet. “Let’s talk.”

“Not here. Alone,” Iona said, looking at him with a determined look in her eye. 

“Alone? Why do you want to talk to Jussipo alone for?” Piak asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Iona bit her lip, looking as if she was going to say something unpleasant but refrained from doing so. “There are things I shouldn’t have said and it’s hard enough doing it in front of everyone. I want to say my piece without anyone interfering or making smart remarks,” Iona said through gritted teeth.

She was embarrassed, Jussipo realized, and she didn’t want the others to know. A part of Jussipo knew that she likely deserved to feel that way, and that he should give her a taste of her own medicine for treating him like she had, but he remembered that Arman and Lavinia had been suspicious of him too, and he hasn't held a grudge against them. It was only fair he did the same for Iona.

“Fine. I’ll talk with you. Alone,” Jussipo relented. 

Piak pulled at his arm again, a worried look on his face. “Are you sure? I still don’t trust her,” he told Jussipo, casting a wary eye at Iona.

Iona scowled, well within earshot, crossing her arms against her chest defensively. 

“I’m sure. Lavinia would have blasted her away if she meant trouble. If Lavinia and the others trust her, then we should, too,” Jussipo told him.

Piak reluctantly released his hold on Jussipo’s arm, cast a wary glance at Iona and Jaro before walking back to join the others. Jaro, without a word, walked away as well, making himself busy with their horses.

“You wanted to talk?” Jussipo asked.

“Not here. Everyone can still hear us. Come on, we won’t go far,” Iona assured him. 

Jussipo hesitated before following her through the woods, which led up to an even steeper high, ending in a cliff. In the distance, Jussipo could see the mountains, possibly one of the Great Mountains, with a river running through it. On the other side of the cliff and below them was a river, leading up to another forest with no civilization in sight.

Iona walked over to the very edge of the cliff, looking out into the distance. Jussipo joined her, taking care not to step too closely to the edge. 

“It’s nice, Iona. Is that why you brought me here?” Jussipo asked, wondering why she brought him out here of all places to apologize to him.

“No, that’s not why we’re here,” Iona said, turning to face him. “Listen, Jussipo, I wanted to say that I’m sorry about how everything turned out back in Unauwen. I let my ambition get the best of me. I never thought you’d suffer because of it - that you’d die because of it. I didn’t want that. I just wanted to have what was supposed to be mine.”

“A knighthood, power,” Jussipo said.

“Yes, that. It makes what I have to do that much harder,” Iona told him. 

Jussipo frowned. “What exactly do you have to do? Is it about what you told the others? I know you aren’t keen on working together again, but I’m sure we’ll figure it all out together,” Jussipo assured her with a smile.

Iona sighed, looking almost sad. “I’m really sorry, Jussipo, I really am. I hope you can understand. It has nothing to do with you-”

“What do you mean?” Jussipo asked, feeling like he was missing something, a feeling close to fear settling in his stomach.

“-I like you, Jussipo, I really do, but I have to do what’s best for me, what’s best for everyone even if they can’t see it. They’re too blind to it, blinded by their affection for you,” Iona continued.

Jussipo knew what that meant. She didn’t trust him still and that only meant…

Before Jussipo could do anything, Iona swiped at his legs, knocking him off his feet. Jussipo landed hard on his back, surprised him, knocked the wind out of him. 

“I’m not going to let you ruin things for the rest of us,” Iona continued, pushing her foot down on his chest, keeping him pinned to the ground.

“I’m not going to do anything, Iona! You know me! I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or the others. Please, stop this,” Jussipo urged, trying to dislodge the foot she had on his chest. 

Iona stepped back, allowing Jussipo to rise back to his feet. “You believe me then?” Jussipo asked. She certainly wouldn’t have let him go if she hadn’t, but the steely look in her eye told him otherwise.

“I believe you. I trust you. I just don’t trust the one controlling you,” she said before pushing him off the cliff.

There hadn’t been time to grab hold of anything, no time to think or act. All he could do was just fall, hurtling to ground below him before the darkness took hold of him once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything about Dangria is from the book with the exception of the identity of Lavinia's mother as that's still a mystery for the show whereas Lavinia has a normal family as far as I know in the books. 
> 
> This chapter is late because motivation is really hard. I took a week off writing and still found it hard to write. I managed to push myself to finish this chapter but I was very tempted to abandon it. Hopefully I won't leave everyone in a cliff hanger (literally) but I make no promises.


	7. A Terrible Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arman sets off with a plan of his own. Jussipo is hurt by Iona's actions, convincing Foldo to make a potentially terrible decision. The Black Knight discovers part of Prince Viridian's plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW IT'S SUPER LATE. Yell at me in the comments.

They trusted him – that held a lot of weight to it. Arman had to be sure that he would uphold his end of the deal, otherwise…it was best not to think about failure. After all, Arman had always been accomplished in everything, in his sword work, with his crossbow, had been on a clear path to knighthood. If he looked at this task like everything else he’d done in his life, Arman knew he’d come out successful. The only problem with that is this was unlike anything he had ever undertaken before. With the sword and crossbow, Arman could practice and practice until his bones ached, but he’d improve with time. This task he’d set out on, however, wasn’t something Arman could practice at, something he could try again if he made a mistake. If Arman made a mistake facing the dreaded Prince Viridian, there would be no second chances at it. Arman had to make sure that wouldn’t happen, summoned all the arrogance and pride he had within himself and steeled himself for what he had to do.

Arman had taken his horse, riding hard back to the road until he reached the Great Mountains that served as the shared borders of Dagonaut and Unauwen, waited until he reached the large fields just outside Mistrinaut. It was somewhere in those fields that held the key to reaching out to Prince Viridian, all Arman had to do was find it. He couldn’t remember the exact spot, his memories faded through the time that had passed since he’d last been there. When searching on horseback turned up nothing, Arman dismounted, taking his search on foot.

It took longer than Arman would have liked but he finally spotted it: a small pit enveloped in the same darkness that had once covered Jussipo’s grave. Arman hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, gathered his courage and took a step forward into the pit. He tried not to think of the implications of there being a pit of darkness in the fields just outside Mistrinaut.

“Viridian! Prince Viridian!” Arman called out, searching back and forth to see if anything around him changed. Nothing did. “I know you’re here, listening. I have a proposal for you if you care to listen,” he shouted into the pit.

Arman was met with more silence. “That’s fine,” he told the pit. “I can wait as long as you can. I have time. I just thought you might want some information, something that can tip the scales in your favor,” Arman said as nonchalantly as he could.

The darkness enveloped Arman almost instantaneously, obscuring his vision, taking him away from the field, the pit of darkness and everything he knew. He was in a field – no, a world of darkness, with no light, no sun, no clouds, nothing but darkness surrounding him.

“I very much doubt someone like you has anything to aid me,” a voice said, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Arman didn’t bother wasting his time looking for the source of the voice, choosing to stare off in a single direction as if the prince were standing right before him. This was it, his moment. Everything he said now would lead him onto a path of success or failure. Arman knew he had to choose his words carefully if he was to convince the prince of anything.

“How would you know if you don’t look for yourself?” Arman challenged.

The voice chuckled. “What do you want,  _ boy _ ? I have no time to waste for fools,” the voice told him almost arrogantly.

“I’m not a boy,” Arman argued, the words spilling out almost immediately beyond his control. Arman bit his lip, reining his childish impulses. He certainly didn’t want to sound like a boy like the prince claimed he was. “I’m a knight, the son of one of your loyal allies. And if you thought I was going to waste your time, you wouldn’t have come. Say what you want but you’re curious about what I have to say.”

“You’re cleverer than I give you credit for. Speak, son of Sir Fantumar, I will listen to what you say,” the prince told him, emerging from the shadows.

That took Arman by surprise. “Y-you know who I am?” he asked. Most people in Dagonaut knew who he was because of his father, formerly the most powerful knight in Dagonaut, a role that belonged to Arman now. Despite that, Arman wasn’t arrogant enough to assume that a prince of Dagonaut would know who he was. Prince Viridian knew his father, yes, but he hadn’t known Arman and Arman himself hadn’t given any indication that Sir Fantumar was his father. Arman wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Of course, I do. You resemble him, especially around the eyes. You have the same eyes, the same shine that speaks of the great ambition you both hold. He spoke of you, you know,” the prince explained, voice soft, all the arrogance gone from his voice.

“He did?” Arman found himself asking, forgetting himself. “What did he say?”

“He was very proud of how far you’d have come. He claimed you would be one of the greatest knights in all of Dagonaut. He often remarked on your prowess with the sword and of the great strength you had despite your age. He had high hopes for you,” the prince told him.

“I-“ Arman wasn’t sure what to say to that. His father was imprisoned now for the crimes he’d committed against Dagonaut and Unauwen. He had done terrible things, and Arman had renounced him once and for all, but there was a part of him, a small part that remembered how much he wanted his father’s affection, how much his pride meant to him. Arman knew it shouldn’t mean much now, but it sparked something deep within him. It wasn’t like it was easy to completely remove someone from your life. Sure, his father had been – was a terrible man, but he wasn’t always, and it was those moments that Arman remembered fondly despite all that had happened.

“I’m sure he’s proud of what you’ve become,” the prince assured him. A part of Arman, the cynical, logical part of him reminded him to stay focused. This was likely how the prince had amassed such support, by speaking to the innermost deepest desires that men held. This man, no matter how young he looked, had done what no one in generations had accomplished: he’d won the Eviellan War. In order for such a young man to accomplish such a feat, he had to be clever, powerful, charming if need be, and was not to be trifled with, or underestimated. Arman glanced at the man, trying to spot anything on the man’s face, but he seemed sincere, expression soft, eyes almost sympathetic.

“I’m not sure he would agree, considering how everything turned out, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same,” Arman said diplomatically, trying to use his anger to keep him grounded. It was Prince Viridian’s fault, after all, that Arman’s father was imprisoned anyway. No charm, sympathy, or soft words would change all that.

The prince seemed to notice the change in Arman, his face becoming more stoic, eyes more guarded than he had been previously. “You said you had information?” the prince asked, returning to the topic at hand.

“I have a proposal for you,” Arman reminded him, trying to keep himself calm. This was the moment of truth, and it all depended on what Arman said and how he said it.

“A proposal. Perhaps you are more your father’s son than I realized. Very well, if you are as ambitious as your father then you will want power, as your father did, in exchange for this information. Am I correct in my assumption?” the prince asked.

Arman’s eyes widened in surprise once more. He had to tread carefully, Arman reminded himself. The prince was more insightful than Arman thought. “Yes, that’s right. I know about the power you hold over the darkness and how you can gift that power to others. I want that.”

“And what information do you have for me that could warrant such a grand gesture on my end?” the prince asked, looking at Arman with a piercing gaze.

“You want to continue unheeded in your quest to,” Arman paused, trying to recall what little Tiuri and Lavinia told him about the prince, “to heal the world, make it a better place. You can’t do that with Lavinia and her friends trying to stop you. I know of a way to stop her, her weakness.”

The prince’s eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in suspicion. “And how did you come across this information? Why would you share it with me? If I recall, you’re also one of Lavinia’s friends. Why would you come here, speak to me and betray her trust, all of their trust?”

A good lie, Arman recalled, was always sprinkled with a kernel of truth. “Because I know her – Lavinia – in a way you never could. I know what she’s like, what makes her laugh and smile, and what would make her hesitate to stop you, something you would never be able to learn in years because she would never let you or any of your agents come close enough to learn her weaknesses,” Arman told him. It wasn’t an outright lie. Arman was a naturally suspicious, protective person. If he was going to protect his friends, he had to know their strengths and weaknesses, even for someone as powerful as Lavinia. It had taken some creative thinking, but Arman had concocted scenarios where Lavinia’s power would be inefficient, and how they could combat that, but the prince didn’t need to know that.

“You make a fair point,” the prince conceded, though the suspicion remained in his eyes. “That doesn’t explain why you would betray her trust.”

Arman took a deep breath and then looked the prince straight in the eye. “I love my friends, but there are some things they would never understand, not even Tiuri or Lavinia would understand. My f-father has been imprisoned for his actions against the knights of Dagonaut and Unauwen and awaits trial. His crimes are far too grievous for him to receive any other sentence than death.” Arman turned his gaze away, unable to hide the hurt in his voice. “Despite all he’s done, I don’t think he deserves to die. He wasn’t always a terrible man, but no one else agrees. If I want my father to live, I have to save him myself.”

“And that would mean breaking into Queen Alianor’s dungeons, going against the law of the realm, something the good noble Tiuri would never agree to, and everyone else will follow at his heel. If you are to free your power, you would have to do so on your own, which would require power beyond your current means,” the prince said in a neutral tone, his face a mask.

“That’s why I came to you as soon as I heard about what you gave Jaro. I knew then that was my way of freeing my father. It’s a lot to ask for, but the price, I think you will agree, is high and valuable to us both,” Arman told him.

The prince remained in thought for a few moments before Arman remembered what he had told his friends in the shack. “I don’t want the power forever though. I’ll give back to you willingly. Isn’t that how it works? You can either take it back willingly or through force. Well, I don’t want it, have no need for it. I just want to free my father and once that’s done with, you can have your power back,” Arman added.

The prince’s eyes widened, looking taken aback by Arman’s words. He likely hadn’t expected Arman to say that, probably just used to people always asking and taking and never giving anything in return. The thought almost made Arman pity the man until he remembered all the death and suffering the prince had caused and whatever pity he had vanished.

“Why should I believe you? You betrayed your father before. Why should I believe you would go through all this trouble all for a father you turned your back to?” the prince asked.

“He’s still my father, and a part of me that still loves him in spite of everything that’s happened. If that sentiment isn’t enough to convince you, consider the severity of what I’m doing. If my friends knew I was here talking to you about freeing my father using information as Lavinia to bargain with, they would never forgive me. If anyone in Dagonaut knew what I was planning, I would shame myself, and if news reached Queen Alianor, I would be stripped of my rank. I have so much to lose from this agreement, far more than what you have to lose. If I do decide to betray you, I would never be strong enough to stop you from killing me and taking back the power you gave me, and if the information I give you is false, you’re strong enough and clever enough to think of another way to stop Lavinia. Either way, you have very little to lose, and potentially, a lot to gain from our agreement,” Arman argued.

The prince frowned, seeming to consider his words. A moment later, he turned to look at Arman once more.

“Done.”

“I have one condition,” Arman said quickly.

The prince rolled his eyes but gestured for Arman to continue.

“I will need a fortnight to accomplish my goal. Once I complete my task, I wish to meet at the Seastone Tower in the Wild Woods to return your power to you. Not in this,” Arman gestured to their surroundings, “darkness or realm that you rule. You hold all the power here. I wish to meet in the real world, in person, where I know you won’t leave me to die.”

The prince smirked. “But I could do that anyway, regardless of where and when we meet,” the prince told him. Arman felt fear churning in his stomach.

“You could,” Arman said carefully, “but you won’t. You aren’t a cruel man and if you want to heal the world, you wouldn’t start with killing a knight of Dagonaut.”

The prince laughed, the sound cold and harsh to Arman’s ears, before he reached his hand out for Arman to shake.

“Do we have an agreement?” the prince asked, still smiling that cruel smile.

“Yes,” Arman said without hesitation before reaching out and shaking the prince’s hand in his own.

Before Arman could let go, the prince vanished before his eyes, the darkness vanishing with him, leaving Arman back in the dark pit, under the open sky and the field of grass. Somehow, Arman thought to himself, he wasn’t sure he made the right choice there. He just hoped he didn’t live to regret it.

*

Everything that could possibly ache and hurt did. It was difficult to think, let alone move, but Jussipo knew he had to do it, had to move, away to somewhere. He wasn’t sure where though.

Was he dead again? Jussipo wondered. He certainly didn’t remember his death feeling like this the first time around. Getting stabbed hurt and took his breath away, leaving him dazed and feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before, and the pain he felt now was not the same as the stabbing pain, the dazed feeling of before. It was a terrible, all-consuming pain that he could scarcely think of anything but the sheer intensity of it all.

He had to move, Jussipo reminded himself. He fell – that much Jussipo could remember – off a cliff? Into a river? Down a slope? Down a hill? That he didn’t know. All he knew is that he had to move to safety. He didn’t know if he was safe yet, if that was even possible for someone in his state.

Moving, however, took more energy, time and effort than what Jussipo was currently capable of. He tried to raise his arm, but found it wouldn’t respond, feeling heavier than Jussipo ever remembered his arm being. Perhaps he did fall into the river. That would certainly explain why he felt heavier than usual.

Instead, Jussipo just laid there on the ground, flopped on his belly with the sun staring down at him for an unknown amount of time. All he could do was think about everything that happened, the words and memories repeating themselves on a loop in his mind. Iona threw him off a cliff, fiercely convinced that he wasn’t to be trusted in a way that Lavinia and Arman had never been. Jussipo tried not to think about how the whole event made him feel. It did make him consider whether Iona was right or not. He had been questioning how much of a danger he presented to his friends from the start, always uncertain about the darkness inside of him, had even told Lavinia to cleanse him even if that meant his death, but she had refused, as his other friends had to leave him behind. Perhaps there had been something Iona could see that the others didn’t, a danger he posed to them all without even realizing it. Perhaps…it was better that he was gone.

The thought hurt Jussipo to the core and normally he would never consider it, but Iona’s actions made him think otherwise. She wouldn’t have gone to such lengths for nothing, and perhaps she would continue to try to…eliminate him if he returned. Jussipo was sure if he told the others about what happened they would take his side, but was that the right thing to do? Was the right thing to do was leave everyone alone? He wasn’t supposed to be alive, after all, and his continued existence was an aberration no matter how he looked at it. Then there was the added component of the darkness living inside of him, keeping him alive, the darkness that was supposed to corrupt the world and bring havoc and destruction across its wake. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to be alive, be with the others, continue living his life like nothing had changed. Perhaps he had been too selfish to realize it before, but he wasn’t now. It would tear him apart, but he would leave to protect his loved ones, even if it meant breaking his own heart in the process. All he had to do was move…

Jussipo didn’t know if he had fallen asleep, but a voice startled him from the clutches of sleep.

“Jussipo!”

He knew that voice and both loved and hated hearing it. It would make leaving so much harder now. “H-hi, Foldo. Fancy seeing you here,” he said softly, feeling himself tire with the words.

“Jussipo, what happened to you? We’ve been looking all over for you,” Foldo exclaimed, sounding as worried as Jussipo knew he would be.

“I’m going to need a little help,” Jussipo told him, trying to flop his arm in Foldo’s direction. He knew any attempt of leaving was moot at this point. Foldo would never let leave on his own, no matter the reasons behind it.

Foldo took Jussipo by the arm, his grip soft and gentle, before he pulled Jussipo to his feet. Jussipo swayed in place, unable to gain his balance and would have fallen flat on his face if it wasn’t for Foldo’s grip on his arm.

“Jussipo, what happened?” Foldo pressed him once more.

Jussipo hesitated. He wasn’t sure if telling Foldo and the others the truth was wise at the moment. Yes, Iona tried to kill him – maybe? – but Jussipo knew the reasons why she had done what she did and didn’t blame her for it. She had failed to do what she set out to do and bringing it up to the others might just spark another bout of fighting between them. Jussipo knew how important it was now, more than ever, for them to have allies. He wasn’t going to compromise the fragile alliance they had.

“I-I fell,” Jussipo said lamely, hoping it didn’t sound as weak to Foldo as it had done to his own ears.

“Off a cliff?” Foldo asked, a worried look on his face.

“Just don’t tell the others,” Jussipo said at last, knowing he couldn’t lie to Foldo. “Especially Piak,” he added with a wince. It would be difficult to convince Piak that Jussipo just fell by accident, but it would have to be done. Piak would never let Iona get away with pushing him off a cliff, not easily anyway, and that was an argument that Jussipo would prefer to avoid altogether.

“Are you sure?” Foldo asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Sure. Let me rest and we’ll go join the others,” Jussipo tried to assure him, plastering a weak smile on his face.

Foldo, somehow, looked even more worried than before. “Jussipo, you’re in…terrible shape,” Foldo admitted.

“What? Is it my clothes? Not again! Not after all the effort I made of making myself look respectable in your eyes,” Jussipo joked, looking down to examine his clothes. Jussipo grimaced at the state of his tattered clothing. There would be no hiding what happened to him from the others by the looks of it.

“No, Jussipo,” Foldo said softly, leaving it at that. “Come on. Let’s go rest for a bit, then.”

Foldo took him to a nearby tree, the process taking so much longer than Jussipo would have thought it ever could, each step that should have taken a second taking so much longer turning a five minute walk into a grueling hour of stumbling, leaving Jussipo panting and sweating profusely by the end of it. Finally, they reached the tree where Foldo helped Jussipo to sit, laying his back to rest against the hard bark.

Jussipo sighed in relief, happy to finally be able to rest peacefully, knowing he was safe with Foldo beside him. He was stupid to think he could ever leave Foldo’s side, not when Foldo made him safe and whole and wanted and better than anything he could ever imagine. Foldo brought him peace and that was worth fighting whatever internal struggle he would have to face in the future.

“Jussipo,” Foldo said softly after a long moment of silence. Jussipo hadn’t minded the silence that much, feeling at peace with the other man by his side.

“Yes, Foldo?” Jussipo asked, turning his head to look at the man. Foldo avoided his gaze, bringing a frown to Jussipo’s face. Foldo rarely tried to hide from him. “What’s wrong?”

Foldo turned to face him, looking worried and nervous. “Jussipo, I need you to do something, but you-“

“Anything,” Jussipo said instantly. “Anything for you.”

That brought a small smile to Foldo’s face, but it wasn’t enough for the fear to leave his eyes. “You won’t like it,” Foldo continued.

Jussipo shrugged. “I’ll bear it, no matter what it is,” he assured him.

Foldo sighed. “I need you to go into the darkness again, Jussipo,” Foldo said softly.

Jussipo’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t expected that. “But…” Foldo knew how he felt about the darkness, how much he hated and feared it. He always felt if he returned to it, he would be returning to death itself. “Why?” Jussipo asked.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Foldo said in lieu of an answer.

Jussipo bit his lip, regretting it immediately as he felt the familiar coppery taste on his tongue. “I do, but I don’t see how it’ll help,” he told him.

“I know. Just trust me. Go into the darkness and tell the prince I want to speak to him,” Foldo said gently.

Jussipo jumped back, hitting his head on the trunk. “Wait, you want to speak to the prince? Foldo, no!”

“He won’t hurt me, or you. He would have done it already if he wanted to hurt either of us. I just want to talk to him,” Foldo explained, a determined look on his face.

Jussipo smiled at the thought of how noble Foldo could be at times. “This isn’t something you can solve with words, Foldo. The world isn’t that simple,” Jussipo told him with a fond smile on his face.

Foldo’s eyes widened in surprise. “You-“

“You know me as well as I know you. As much as I want to keep things hidden from you, you always seem to know what I’m hiding anyway. The same goes for you as well. I know you too well for you to hide something as big as this from me,” Jussipo told him.

“I know it’s foolish,” Foldo said in a small voice, the determined look returning, “but I have to try, Jussipo. If there’s another way, I must attempt it. Not everything has to end with death and violence. Maybe things can end differently this time.”

“Alright,” Jussipo agreed, pushing the fear that arose with facing the darkness again down.

Jussipo closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t just fall asleep on the other man. It didn’t take long, the familiar cold sensation of the cold enveloping him like before. The only difference this time was that – as much as Jussipo hated to admit it – Jussipo was injured, making the cold seem almost welcoming and inviting.

“F-Foldo w-wants to t-talk to you,” Jussipo told the darkness, feeling more tired and sleepy than before, struggling with keeping his eyes open.

Jussipo didn’t know if the prince heard him, falling into sleep before he could find out.

*

The darkness, Foldo remembered, was supposed to be a cold, sunless world with nothing in it and that was precisely what it was. There was nothing and no one he could see, but Foldo knew the prince had to be there somewhere, listening, otherwise Foldo wouldn’t be here.

“Your Highness, I know you’re there. I wish to speak to you,” Foldo told the darkness, eyes searching for a figure anywhere he could see.

“You knights think so highly of yourselves to think you can summon me so easily? Do I look like the jinns of old to you?” a voice called out within the darkness. Foldo could not spot the source of it, the voice echoing all around him.

“I would appreciate it if you would show yourself. I would prefer to converse with a person than the thin air,” Foldo said as gently as he could, trying to make the words sound more like a request than a command. He didn’t want to start the conversation with the other man offended, although he already seemed irritated by the sound of it.

“First you command to speak to me and now you command me to show myself? Who do you think you are to speak to a prince like that?” the voice asked, anger and derision in his voice.

Foldo felt his heart drop to his stomach. Somehow, he had made the man even angrier than before, which wasn’t his intention at all. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I meant no offense. I am-“

“I know who you are,” the voice said, voice dripping with scorn. “Sir Foldo, and I know why you’re here. You’re here to make a silly request, but I fail to see what someone like you could possibly offer me. I don’t give out favors easily. If it’s power, or a favor you seek, you will have to give something of value in return.”

That gave Foldo much to consider. The prince was right, of course. Foldo didn’t have much to offer to the other man, especially when he had as much power as he did. He couldn’t offer to kill Lavinia, like Jaro had agreed to, nor could he agree to stopping his friends. Foldo was never gifted with the silver tongue others seemed to possess, or the cold hard logic needed to convince others like Iona did. In truth, there was very little someone like Foldo could offer the prince, but he had to try somewhere.

The answer would lie with the prince and what someone like him would want. There was the obvious: power that Foldo did not possess. Then there was the less obvious, the intimate details that many didn’t know about the man. Foldo wasn’t privy to any of those details, however, and would have to make do with what he knew of the prince. He had been young, and powerful, acquired supernatural power in his lifetime, appeared to have a strained relationship with his father and brother, had Lord Fantumar and the Red Riders working for him, both of which were an unsavory lot known for their greed and cruelty respectively. Prince Viridian had been a man of many allies so one could one like Foldo offer to the prince?

“Do your friends know you’re here speaking to me?” the prince asked, interrupting Foldo’s thoughts.

“No,” Foldo answered simply.

The prince chuckled, a cold, harsh sound. “Would they forgive you for this? Consorting with the enemy? Making secret deals?” the prince asked, his voice haughty and smug.

Foldo frowned. He hadn’t considered what the others might think of Foldo’s impromptu meeting, if they would hate him for it.

“They don’t know, but they would understand…eventually,” Foldo told him.

The prince laughed. “How naïve of you. All I wanted was to bring peace to the world, heal it, free it from the pain, suffering and corruption and look at where that got me. Was the price too great? Perhaps, but peace for everyone, isn’t that worth it all? I tried my best to do good, the ultimate good and I was killed for it. What makes you think your friends would understand, that they won’t crucify you for doing something terrible?” the prince asked.

“They won’t hate me,” Foldo insisted. “Especially, Jussipo – he’ll understand, even if the others don’t.”

The prince scoffed. “Of course, your precious  _ Jussipo _ will understand,” the prince retorted angrily, bitterly.

Foldo was taken back by the prince’s tone. He wasn’t sure why his defense of his friends, or even the mention of Jussipo would warrant such a response, unless…

The words came to him then. “I know I don’t have much to offer to someone like you-“

The voice scoffed.

Foldo continued, ignoring the interruption and scorn in the man’s voice. “Be that as it may, someone such as myself can only offer you is my council and ear. A friend if you need it,” he said simply.

The voice scoffed again. “Is this a joke? I assure you I have little patience for jokes and clever quips,” the prince told him, the anger clear in his voice.

“It’s not a joke. I’m serious. In exchange for your help, I willingly offer you my council, if you want it, and I’ll listen to you – truly listen whenever you need to speak to anyone,” Foldo told him, eyes searching once more for the source of the voice, hoping he was facing the right direction this whole time, hoped the prince could see how serious he was.

The prince was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. “And what makes you think I would need something as silly as someone to listen to me? A  _ friend _ ,” he said, the disdain clear in his voice, along with something else, something Foldo couldn’t properly identify.

Foldo chose his next words very carefully. It was clear that Prince Viridian was a proud man, powerful and dangerous, but also vulnerable in ways that people didn’t quite expect. “It’s all I have to offer to someone like you, someone who has almost everything,” Foldo said softly.

“’Someone who has almost everything.’ I have everything and I have nothing, but that’s not something someone like  _ you _ could ever hope to comprehend,” the prince continued.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Foldo said diplomatically, “but I would be willing to try if that was what you wanted.”

Silence descended upon them once more. Foldo waited anxiously, hoping he had said the right words at least this once. Then, quite suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, dressed in black armor, likely the armor he died in, dark hair combed back, looking younger than Foldo would have thought the prince would have.

“And what would you like in return?” the prince asked, looking at him intently.

Foldo’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t actually expected to see the prince or for it to work at all, but it had, and Foldo was determined not to ruin it, not with his inability to speak, or his tendency to ramble. He needed to sound bold and confident, like Arman, like Lavinia, maybe even a little like Iona. Instead, Foldo felt himself fumble, unable to look the prince in the eye, the words that suddenly came to him before left him suddenly.

“I-I, what I mean to say is…uh.”

When Foldo looked back up at the prince, expecting the haughtiness and scorn before on his face, but was surprised to see him patiently waiting for him to finish.

“You can bring people back from the dead,” Foldo started.

“Yes,” the prince confirmed.

“Yes, and well, Jussipo’s hurt-“

The prince made a strange noise at that, rolling his eyes. Foldo ignored it and continued. “And I’ve lost him before. I don’t want to lose him again. You gave Jaro something, a gift of some kind. I was wondering if it was possible for you to do something that would allow me to protect Jussipo or heal him. He deserves to live a full life,” Foldo explained.

The prince extended his arm, holding out his hand. Foldo reached for it, thinking he was supposed to shake it, but instead it glowed and from the prince’s palm emerged a small bird with grey-green feathers. The prince offered it to Foldo once more. Foldo stood there, unsure of what exactly to do with the bird.

“It’s a wren,” the prince explained as he gently ruffled the wren’s side with his finger. “I’ve imbued it with the gift of healing. Everything that it touches should be healed, healthy and hearty. Should it die, the gift will die with it, understand?”

“Yes,” Foldo said, reaching out and taking the small bird in his hands. “I’ll take good care of it.”

“You can have the wren and in exchange, you will listen,” the prince said to him.

Foldo nodded, taking his eyes off the small bird and looking back up at the prince. “And a friend, if you need one,” Foldo reminded him, cursing himself as soon as the words left his lips.

“I have no need for friends. I have…I have no need for friends,” the prince said softly, avoiding Foldo’s gaze.

“Of course,” Foldo said quickly. “You were-  _ are _ a prince. You have your powers and your brother and father.”

“I have everything,” the prince repeated, “and I have nothing. We shall speak again soon, Sir Foldo of Dagonaut.”

With that said, the prince disappeared into the darkness once more, leaving Foldo in the darkness alone. The darkness disappeared slowly before Foldo’s eyes with sky emerging above him, the sun shining brightly, suddenly seeming too bright to Foldo’s eyes now as he winced from the light. The green grass was around him, along with the trees and fields. He could hear the river flowing behind him as well as the birds chirping in the trees. It all looked as it had before, like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed, like Foldo hadn’t just potentially betrayed his friends. It wasn’t a betrayal, Foldo told himself, but it certainly wouldn’t help them, or perhaps it would. Foldo wasn’t sure, torn between deciding it was a good choice or a terrible decision. Only time would tell which of the two it was.

Foldo turned his attention back to his companion, finding Jussipo remained slumped against the tree, sleeping soundly, his breathing labored. Foldo remembered the bird and found it was still nestled safely in Foldo’s hands, chirping calmly as Foldo placed the bird on Jussipo’s shoulder, hoping it would know what to do. Nothing appeared to have happened, but slowly Jussipo’s breathing steadied, becoming less labored and pained with each passing moment until Jussipo relaxed completely, looking at peace in a way he hadn’t before.

Foldo didn’t want to wake Jussipo from what looked like a peaceful dream, but so much time had passed already and the others were likely worried enough as it was. Foldo shook Jussipo awake until he stirred, blinking sleepily.

“How’d it go with the prince?” Jussipo asked immediately.

Foldo hesitated, the prince’s words returning to him in a rush. Would it be wise to tell the others what he had done? Jussipo already suspected what he had done anyway and didn’t appear to begrudge Foldo for it. The others though, that was an entirely different question altogether.

“It went well,” Foldo said at last, “well, as well as it could with someone like Prince Viridian.”

“What did you say? What did he say? Tell me everything!” Jussipo exclaimed, looking both worried and excited at the same time.

Foldo told him an abbreviated version of the conversation he had with the prince, knowing Jussipo wasn’t likely to judge him for what he had done or agreed to.

“You really think you’re going to get through to him?” Jussipo asked once Foldo had finished telling him.

“I’m not sure,” Foldo confessed, taking a seat next to Jussipo, leaning back against the tree. “I had to try, and it’s not hurting us any. I didn’t promise I’d help him or hurt anyone. I just promised I would listen to him and be his friend if he wanted, although he didn’t seem all that interested in that offer.”

Jussipo frowned, looking pensive all of a sudden.

“What? What is it?” Foldo asked.

“Well, what if this is a different tactic for him? Convincing you to join him by slowly making you think he’s not a bad person? After all, he had a whole army willing to follow him and do what he wanted. Who’s to say he isn’t charming and conniving?” Jussipo wondered.

Foldo had to admit that the idea had some merit to it and the prince could very well be trying to trick him, but there was something about the prince, the way he held himself, the piercing look in his eyes that told Foldo that the prince was honest with him, meant what he said to Foldo. “It could be,” Foldo admitted, “but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Just be careful around him. Don’t forget that he’s dangerous and he’s our enemy,” Jussipo reminded him.

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” Foldo assured him.

“Good,” Jussipo said as the worried expression fell away to his useful cheerful one. “I’m feeling better, but I suppose,” he said, turning to face the wren still sitting on his shoulder, “I have you to thank for that, don’t I? Speaking of which, what are we going to tell the others?”

Foldo bit his lip. “I’m not sure,” Foldo said.

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. Iona’s going to hate it, probably say you’re being stupid and easily manipulated or something like that. Lucky that Arman’s not here so we can avoid that lecture, but Lavinia’s not going to like it either, or Piak for that matter,” Jussipo added with a grimace.

“What should I do?” Foldo asked, feeling lost in a way he hadn’t ever felt before in his life. Even Jussipo’s death hadn’t left him floundering like he was now, but that perhaps due in part to Foldo avoiding his feelings on the matter entirely.

Jussipo frowned, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them,” Jussipo suggested.

Foldo’s eyes widened at the thought. He knew it was likely to be an unpopular decision the others wouldn’t agree with, but Foldo never considered not telling them altogether. It seemed almost like admitting he had done something wrong, which Foldo didn’t agree with. It was, however, toeing the line, and it would be nice to avoid another set of arguments altogether.

“Or we can wait until the right moment for it. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone about my fall, but perhaps if Iona could be…persuaded to agree to it. The others will take some convincing, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it,” Jussipo said.

Foldo was the one to frown this time. “You’re not telling the others about what happened?” Foldo himself was unsure about what happened. Jussipo claimed he fell but hadn’t gone into any details into how. The fact Jussipo suggested using it to convince Iona implied that perhaps Iona had something to do with it.

“Jussipo, if Iona pushed you then we need to tell the others! Who knows what she’ll do next?!” Foldo exclaimed, rising to his feet. There really was only so much Foldo could take when it came to Jussipo’s safety.

Jussipo rose to his feet as well, leaning on the tree as he did so. “This isn’t something I’m willing to discuss. I’m not telling the others. We’re going up against the darkness, Prince Viridian himself, again! We’re going to need all the help we can get. Bringing this up is just going to set everyone off arguing again. It’s better to let it go. I’m willing to let it go and I’m the one who got hurt. You should be able to do the same,” Jussipo said sternly, a determined look on his face.

“I don’t understand how you can be so calm about this. Someone tried to kill you, Jussipo! This isn’t something you can forgive so easily,” Foldo argued.

“It’s not that I’m willing to forgive so much as I understand her reasoning behind it. She doesn’t trust me because the darkness is inside of me. Arman and Lavinia thought the same thing. She just decided to handle the matter differently is all,” Jussipo said.

It wasn’t enough for Foldo, even what Jussipo was saying held some truth to it. “I-I-“

“I’m not saying anything to the others and I want you to do the same. It won’t change anything even if I did. Can you do that for me, Foldo? Please?” Jussipo asked.

“I don’t want to,” Foldo admitted.

“But?” Jussipo prompted hopefully.

“I won’t say anything if you feel that strongly about the matter,” Foldo begrudgingly agreed, even if everything inside of him was telling him to do the opposite. He really couldn’t say no to Jussipo, not after everything they’ve been through.

“Good. Glad that’s settled. Now what are we going to tell the others about your conversation with the prince?” Jussipo asked.

“We’ll wait until the right moment,” Foldo decided. Perhaps Jussipo was right in that regard. It would take time to find the right moment though, a time where everyone would be receptive to the idea of alternative methods of dealing with the darkness. He couldn’t wait too long though. Foldo just hoped he would know when the right time was.

“Good. Let’s join the others then,” Jussipo said.

The wren leaped from Jussipo’s shoulder as they started walking. For a moment, Foldo thought he had lost the bird forever, and everything he had worked for had been for nothing, but the wren flew back, circling around them like it was telling them to hurry up. Foldo found that to be the case as they walked. The wren would fly away only to return later, hovering in the distance but still within view.

“We should name it,” Jussipo suggested, turning his attention to the bird when he noticed Foldo staring at it.

“It would be best not to get attached to it,” Foldo said, feeling like the wren was a symbol of hope, but also an omen of the power of the darkness that was threatening to consume them all.

Jussipo frowned, letting the matter go. They descended into silence as they made their way back to the shack Iona brought them to. It had actually taken some time for Foldo to find Jussipo as he had fallen into the river, which had taken him some distance away, and Foldo hadn’t known where to look to find him.

“Are you angry?” Jussipo asked suddenly.

“No. Why would I be?” Foldo asked, surprised Jussipo would think that.

“You don’t agree with what I decided,” Jussipo said, avoiding Foldo’s gaze.

It was really the first disagreement the two of them had, although Foldo was sure there would be more to come. Foldo didn’t agree with how Jussipo decided to handle the matter, but he would support him, now and forever, as long as Jussipo was in Foldo’s life. “I don’t agree,” Foldo admitted, “but it’s your decision to make. I’ll respect your wishes even if I don’t agree with them. We’re partners. I’ll support you no matter what.”

Jussipo smiled at that, making Foldo feel soft and warm on the inside. “I’m very fortunate to have someone like you by my side,” Jussipo said, a look on his face that Foldo hadn’t seen before.

For a moment, Foldo forgot about everything, about the darkness, the prince, their quest, the danger they were all in. All he could think about was Jussipo and how happy Foldo was that he was alive and here and Foldo would never, ever take that for granted.

The wren flew between them, whistling some tune, bringing Foldo back to the present, and he was reminded of their grim task.

With a sigh, Foldo walked on, Jussipo by his side until they reached the shack on the slope again. The others were gone, still looking for Jussipo it seemed. Foldo and Jussipo decided to gather some firewood while they waited, unsure of how long it would take for the others to return.

Piak was the first to come back, throwing himself at Jussipo at the sight of his brother, alive and well.

“Jussipo! You’re alright! What happened? We were all worried about you!” Piak asked, eyeing Jussipo carefully, examining him for wounds.

“I’m alright! Stop your fussing. I can handle myself,” Jussipo reminded him, pushing him away.

Piak turned to Foldo for answers. Foldo tried his best to keep his anger at bay, the feeling returning with the reminder of what had happened. Instead, he merely shared a look with Piak, trying to assure the younger boy that everything was alright without saying as such. Piak seemed to take Foldo at his words, his expression relaxing, a smile returning to his face with the knowledge that his brother was alright.

“What did happen to you, Jussipo?” a voice called out. Foldo looked up and found Lavinia and Tiuri returning, walking over to them.

“I fell, hit my head and was disoriented for a while. I got lost and it took me some time for me to realize where I was. Foldo found me and we walked back here together,” Jussipo informed them. Foldo was impressed with how quickly Jussipo was able to lie to the others, or perhaps he had concocted the tale on their way back to camp.

Lavinia gave him a skeptical look, not completely convinced by the man’s story. Tiuri gave her a look and with that, she sighed, appearing to let the matter go…for now. Foldo wasn’t looking forward to when it all came out, and he was sure it would eventually.

“Are you hurt, Jussipo? You said you hit your head,” Tiuri asked, a concerned look on his face.

Jussipo shook his head. “I’m fine. Just have a headache,” Jussipo assured him.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait for the others before deciding what to do,” Tiuri said.

“I still don’t trust them, either of them,” Lavinia told them.

“I know, but we decided to work together. We won’t be able to do that if we don’t trust them,” Tiuri argued.

“Trust has to be earned, and they have yet to earn mine,” Lavinia said stubbornly.

“If that were true, we wouldn’t trust anyone. Sometimes trust is like a leap of faith. You just trust them even if they haven’t given you a reason to. It’s what second chances are all about,” Tiuri told her.

Lavinia scoffed, crossing her arms against her chest. “Out of all the fools I had to fall for, it had to be the most naïve of them all,” Lavinia grumbled.

Tiuri smiled at her, a soft and fond look on his face. “You know you love it,” Tiuri teased.

Lavinia’s face softened, a smile making its way onto her face. “I never said that,” she said, rolling her eyes for good measure.

“Ugh, I’m starting to see why Arman was in such a foul mood earlier if he has to put up with this the whole time,” Iona told them, making her way to the small campfire Foldo and Jussipo had started with the Red Rider trailing behind her. She scanned the scene before her, her eyes widening momentarily when spotting Jussipo before settling into a neutral expression. The Red Rider was similarly affected, but he was also able to quickly mask any surprise he held at seeing Jussipo there. So they both knew about it then. It might have even been planned, Foldo thought to himself, not sure how he felt about that. 

“What happened?” Tiuri asked, addressing his question to Foldo and Jussipo.

“He fell and got lost of all things,” Piak informed them before either Foldo or Jussipo could speak up.

“He did?” Tiuri asked, sharing a look with Lavinia.

Iona’s eyes narrowed as she watched the two, while the Red Rider tensed. Foldo felt his stomach clench anxiously at the sight of it all, feeling unease at lying to his friends and now it seemed as if it was all going to be for nothing.

Lavinia let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose there’s nothing for it now. We’ll have to try to make up for it tomorrow. It’ll be too late to reach an inn at this point,” Lavinia told them.

Tiuri cast her a reproachful look before addressing the group. “What Lavinia means to say is that we’re glad you’re fine, Jussipo. We should try setting up camp before it gets too dark.”

Lavinia blushed, looking down at her feet, abashed. “Uh, yes, that too. I’m glad you’re fine, Jussipo. We were all terribly worried about you,” she said softly.

Jussipo graced her with a kind smile. “Thanks, Lavinia,” then turned to address the group. “Thanks, everyone. I’m sorry for worrying everyone. I’ll try not to get so distracted.”

Foldo watched Iona carefully, finding her almost glaring at Jussipo suspiciously. Foldo wondered how he hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t foreseen that Iona would act in such a way. It wasn’t like she hadn’t betrayed them before unexpectedly. It made sense for her to take such drastic actions again, especially if it meant…but what exactly was she really hoping to accomplish by it all? That thought alone troubled Foldo the most. Would she try again? Unlikely, especially when she had failed once.

The Red Rider jabbed his elbow into Iona’s side, leaning down to whisper something to her. Iona then noticed Foldo staring at her, startling Foldo. He avoided her glance then, hoping his own suspicion wasn’t written all over his face.

“I set out some traps earlier,” the Red Rider announced suddenly, voice sounding loud to them all after the silence of the woods. He brought out some dead rabbits from a satchel and held them up in the air for them to see. “It’ll make for a decent dinner for us all. Stew might be better considering how many of us there are.”

They all turned to stare at him in silence, unsure of what to say. Foldo could see on her face that Lavinia was still suspicious of the newcomers. Even Tiuri, possibly the noblest of them all, seemed reluctant to take the Red Rider up on his offer. Despite their good intentions, a strange unease settled among them.

Foldo himself wasn’t sure what to make of the pair. Possibly before that evening, he might have given them a chance, but now he wasn’t so sure. Iona had tried to kill Jussipo and even Foldo found that hard to forgive no matter what Jussipo thought of it all.

“Fine. Suit yourselves. More for me,” the Red Rider told them, blasé about the entire exchange or lack thereof. He approached the campfire, making his way past Tiuri and Lavinia, settling himself on the ground and beginning the process of preparing the rabbits.

“Rabbit stew? It’s been a while since I’ve had rabbit stew. Might be nice on a night like this,” Jussipo said cheerfully, taking a seat next to the Red Rider.

Foldo’s stomach clenched uncomfortably, wishing for once that Jussipo would see things his way and not risk himself so recklessly. There were plenty of ways for someone of the Red Rider’s caliber to hurt Jussipo and here Jussipo was sitting next to the man unperturbed by the danger he presented. The Red Rider’s eyes widened in surprise, a strange look settled on his face as Jussipo joined him by the fire.

Foldo tried to subtly, through gestures and body language alone to tell Jussipo to leave but Jussipo never turned his way. With a heavy sigh, Foldo joined Jussipo, figuring the Red Rider would be less likely to try something if someone was watching him.

“I’ve never made rabbit stew before. What ingredients do you need?” Jussipo asked.

The Red Rider hesitated for a moment before answering. “Anything really. Potatoes, carrots, lettuce. Stew’s meant to be a good way to stretch food out for days or for many people. You can make stew out anything,” the Red Rider explained.

“Anything?” Jussipo asked skeptically. “What’s the strangest stew you’ve eaten?”

“Boiled leather soup,” the Red Rider told him with a grimace.

“No! Really? I don’t believe it. Now you’re just making it all up,” Jussipo proclaimed loudly.

“It’s true! You’re just too  _ green _ to realize it,” the Red Rider retorted.

“I’ve heard of travelers coming through Mistrinaut mention such things, although,” Lavinia said, casting a skeptical look at the Red Rider, “I’m sure someone as well traveled as our Red Rider here would have heard of such tales, and might boast of it to make themselves look more impressive.”

“It does sound like something a Red Rider would do,” Piak agreed, a mischievous grin on his face.

The Red Rider frowned. “It is true, even if you chose not to believe me,” he grumbled.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t all cast doubt about who does what,” Tiuri said diplomatically as always.

Iona scoffed, taking a seat next to the Red Rider by the fire. “I do that all the time. It’s the best way of keeping this one honest,” Iona told them.

They all laughed at that, and at once the tension and unease seemed to lift, a feeling of peace and tranquility settled among the group. The others joined them by the fire. Someone brought a small pot over in which to make the stew in, everyone adding in the few food items they had with them in their packs.

Foldo turned to look at Jussipo, finding him smiling at him with a knowing look.  _ I told you _ , it seemed to say.

Foldo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and simply bumped his shoulder against Jussipo’s own. It felt nice, the fire and stories. Even the stew hadn’t been so bad, despite Iona’s teasing of the Red Rider’s cooking skills. For a moment, Foldo forgot about their quest, forgot about the darkness that threatened them still. All he could think about was Jussipo by his side, his happy smile, the warmth that settled in Foldo’s chest at the sight of him.

The wren flew within view, and with that sight alone the worry that plagued Foldo since Jussipo’s return reemerged once more. He hoped, more desperately than he ever had in his life, for everything to turn out alright.

*

Sir Edwinem grew worried once Tiuri and his friends had left for Eviellan. The knight had wanted to leave with them, but his strong sense of duty had prevented him from doing so. The king was unwell, vulnerable, especially so with the crowned prince gone to settle disputes across the realm. Old enemies had emerged when Prince Viridian had revolted against his father and were still making themselves known. Sir Edwinem worried they would take their fight up against the king in the capital while he was still unwell. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the king was unwell, a fact Sir Edwinem wished had remained hidden but there was nothing to be done about it now.

During the day, the knight made his rounds, eventually finding himself distracted by the shadow he kept seeing at the corner of his eye. Every time he spotted it, Sir Edwinem would be off to follow it, feeling foolish when he found nothing. A part of Sir Edwinem knew it was rather silly to be distracted by something that could have simply been conjured up by his tired mind, but he was convinced there was something there in the castle. All he needed was the proof to confirm his suspicions.

On that day, Sir Edwinem was making his rounds as usual when one of the palace guards sought him out.

“You must come quickly, Sir Edwinem. It’s the king!” the guard exclaimed.

Sir Edwinem felt his heart clench. It couldn’t be, not yet, not the king. “Of course, lead the way,” he answered.

The guard let the knight to the throne room, where a flustered King Favian sat upon his throne. His clothes were rumpled, thrown on in a careless manner with buttons and loose laces, his crown askew on his half-combed hair, adding further to the king’s haggard appearance.

“He insisted on coming in today to attend to his royal duties,” the guard explained.

The king turned to the guard closest to him, eyes squinting. “Iridian? Is that you, old boy? Is it really the best time to be wearing your armor?” the king asked with some distaste. “There is a time and place for that. I thought I taught you that already,” he chastised.

Sir Edwinem grimaced. “I’ll take care of the matter,” he told the guard, whose shoulders slumped in relief.

King Favian was a force to reckon with even in the best of times. He could be crude at times, stubborn and forceful, someone who made their presence and power known easily, but surprisingly insightful, and despite his seemingly callous nature, cared deeply for his family and kingdom. For all his flaws, he remained Sir Edwinem’s king, and his duty laid entirely on the man, even if that meant protecting the man from himself.

Sir Edwinem approached the throne, kneeling before the king. “I have an important matter to discuss with you, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid it’s of a sensitive nature,” the knight told him.

The king’s eyes took in Sir Edwinem’s attire. “Sir Edwinem? My good friend, I do recall news of your death. Is that really you that stands before me, after all this time?” the king asked.

“Yes, it is I-“ Sir Edwinem started.

“An important matter, you said? Come. You can inform me of your latest adventures on the way to my study,” the king told him, rising uneasily to his feet.

The palace guards rushed over, standing anxiously as the king managed to find his footing. The king scowled at them all, gesturing for them to leave with the wave of his hand.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Sir Edwinem said as he waited for the king to make his slow way down the steps.

Together they made it to the hall. A small group of guards followed close behind them, eyeing them both anxiously.

“It seems so long since we’ve spoken last, Sir Edwinem. Tell me, how long has it been?” the king asked as they walked down the hall at a snail’s pace.

Sir Edwinem found himself not minding the pace, as it brought back memories of days long since passed. “Two years, I believe,” Sir Edwinem said with a frown.

The king frowned as well, stopping for a moment before resuming the slow pace of before. “Has it really been that long?” he asked with a chuckle. “It seems we are both at that age where time passes so slowly and yet so quickly at the same time…does that make sense? No, I don’t think it does. Forgive me, old friend, my mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be.”

“With age comes wisdom they say. Perhaps you’ll gain some of that wisdom now, Your Majesty,” the knight teased lightly. It was bold of him to say, but Sir Edwinem knew his place, knew when to push, when to speak, and when to keep quiet, and when to hold his tongue. Someone like King Favian favored boldness as long as it tempered with a strong sense of duty and propriety, a balance not easily achieved by many, but Sir Edwinem had spent many years by the king’s side – too many perhaps – and knew how to strike the right balance between the two.

The king chuckled. “Perhaps. Although I find wisdom to be a bit trite. Cleverness and brute strength – that’s something I can admire,” the king told him.

“A fox is clever, but that doesn’t stop it from being hunted and killed. A boar is as strong as they come and suffers the same fate. They both have their uses, but a wise man knows exactly when to be clever and when to use force,” Sir Edwinem countered.

The king sighed. “Very true, my dear knight. But a king can be as bold as he likes, as long as he follows the council of those wiser than him, he need not be wise,” the king countered back.

“Well said, Your Majesty,” Sir Edwinem told him, finding he had no argument against that.

They found themselves in front of the king’s private study. Two guards opened the doors for them. The king’s private study was small, modest, sparsely furnished with a small desk and chair facing a large window. The room itself wasn’t very impressive, but the view was, extending beyond the palace courtyard and into the kingdom itself.

Glancing upon the room, the king let out a loud yawn. “What was it you wished to discuss with me, Sir Edwinem?” the king asked, letting out another yawn.

“Perhaps this conversation can wait until later, Your Majesty. Rest might be in order,” Sir Edwinem suggested lightly, knowing the king did not take well to being ordered about.

The king glared at him. “I’m feeling well enough. Now tell me what it is you meant to discuss with me,” the king demanded.

With a sigh, the knight began to discuss the latest news in Unauwen from the meetings the king had missed while ill. The king took a seat by his desk, growing sleepier and sleepier with every word Sir Edwinem uttered until finally, his eyes closed completely.

“Your Majesty?” Sir Edwinem asked, gently prodding the king on the shoulder.

“Perhaps you are correct, old friend. A rest might do me some good,” the king relented. “I would suggest not looking too smug about it,” the king added with a knowing look.

Sir Edwinem grinned, unable to keep the smile from his face. “I would dream of doing nothing of the sort, Your Majesty,” the knight said, offering the king his arm.

The king scoffed, shoving the arm away as if it personally offended him before rising to his feet. The knight remained by his side as they made the short walk to the king’s private chambers. The king paused at the door, looking back at the knight.

“It can wait, Your Majesty. His Highness will return soon. You have nothing to worry about,” the knight assured him.

The king nodded, looking up at the knight with a calm look on his face. “What would I do without you, old friend?”

“You would carry on, as you always have,” Sir Edwinem said easily.

“But it would not be the same,” the king said softly before heading inside, closing the door behind him.

“He’s so fortunate to have you, his lionhearted knight,” a voice said from beside him, starting Sir Edwinem.

When the knight turned, he half expected there to be nothing and no one just like the many times when he had seen the shadow. Instead, the young prince stood beside him, dressed in his usual black armor, looking just like he had when the knight had seen him last.

“Prince Viridian!” the knight exclaimed.

“You’ve always taken good care of him, gone far beyond what duty would dictate and for what? Where did that leave you? Dead in a ditch somewhere. What would compel you to go so far even to your death?” the prince asked.

The knight scowled. “I expect it to be beyond your understanding as you know so little of loyalty and duty,” the knight retorted angrily.

The prince frowned. “I simply wish to understand what ties you so strongly to my father. You would surely not begrudge me that?”

The knight saw no reason to deny the prince his request, but Sir Edwinem could not help but feel that it was a trap of some kind, feeling wary of the prince. He was supposed to be dead, after all, but, then again, so was Sir Edwinem.

“Duty to the realm and to the king. A knight is meant to protect his king, his kingdom, no matter the cost, even if that means losing his own life. It’s worth it in the end if it saves lives. It’s as simple as that,” the knight answered.

“Duty to the realm, you say? You had no such loyalty to me, a prince of your realm. You had no inner conflict in turning me over to my father. Where was your loyalty to me?” the prince argued.

The question took the knight back. It was true, as a knight of Unauwen, he was loyal to the crown and that included the royal family. Perhaps if it had been anyone else, there would have been some conflict between serving his prince and his king, but there had been no such conflict within Sir Edwinem. The prince had meant to act against his kingdom, against his king, and deserved no such loyalty from him, from anyone.

“A true prince,” Sir Edwinem said, “serves the realm and your actions and desires were purely your own and served no one but yourself. That is why I never followed you and worked against you.”

“I was going to save the realm, the world! Why couldn’t you see that, you ignorant fool?!” the prince retorted. 

The knight opened his mouth to speak, but the prince spoke up again.

“But no! There was no such loyalty to me, not even when I was the one to bring you back! Here you are, back from the dead and still serving the most callous, self-absorbed king to have ever lived-”

“Back from the dead? You brought me back?” the knight asked, shook by the revelation. Tiuri and his friends had informed him they suspected the prince to be behind the returning darkness, and the returned dead, but Sir Edwinem had never suspected the prince had intentionally brought him back. There had been no love lost between them, Sir Edwinem recalled. 

The prince ignored him, continuing on his rant. “He has your loyalty still despite everything. I’ve been trying to heal the world and all I’ve earned is scorn from everyone, even from those that are meant to serve me, those who are meant to be loyal,” the prince exclaimed, almost sadly.

The knight hadn’t expected that. Prince Viridian had been many things, but the knight hadn’t expected him to be troubled by how others treated him. He had been proud and strong, emotional with a violent temper, but never sad, not since he was a boy. Sir Edwinem was reminded of the scared little boy who hid beneath the covers whenever a storm passed, and when he was too old for such deeds, he withdrew within himself, taking coaxing to reveal how he felt. Prince Viridian had been good once, but somehow the knight had forgotten that, distracted by a war that was finally coming to an end, too eager to have it all come to a close, too quick to jump to action when reason and words might have sufficed. Perhaps that was where Sir Edwinem had erred. He had thought the prince to be beyond words, beyond convincing, but the knight had never tried, never tried to reach the heart of the young boy he knew so well. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to try now.

Sir Edwinem dropped to his knees, kneeling before the prince. The prince’s large blue eyes widened in surprise at the action, then narrowed in suspicion.

“It’s too late for your flowery words now. I brought you back and I did it for a reason, and it certainly wasn’t to take care of my ailing father.”

The knight tried to open his mouth to speak but found himself unable to, his limbs becoming tense, heavy, too heavy to move. 

“Is that what you thought you were meant to do, Sir Edwinem? A second chance to serve your king once more?” the prince asked, voice cold and hard. Sir Edwinem, initially, hadn’t known what to make of his second chance at life, but he had been eager to do as he had before, serve his kingdom, serve his king, see his wife and family once more. Perhaps that had been a fool’s hope, a stupid wish. Men only live once. Sir Edwinem had been silly to forget that. 

“I have a better use for you. The king and realm may have your heart, but I’m the one who holds the strings, my puppet, and you will do as I command of you. You are to seek out the girl - you know the one - destroy her and her friends, once and for all. The Red Rider may have failed me, but you will not, not when the darkness inside of you. Go and do not return until the deed is done.”

Sir Edwinem tried to protest, yell, scream out in anger, but his mouths, lips, jaw remained closed. He found himself rising to his feet, his body moving on its own accord. He tried to fight for control over his body, but it was like battling a stone wall, hard and immovable. He noticed his vision dimming, darkening around the edges. He tried to fight that as well, feeling the strong urge and pull of sleep, of death, but it was impossible to resist. He hardly stood a chance. 

The knight was filled with a strong sense of failure as his senses failed him, leaving him in the familiar darkness once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got no excuse for the lateness. This chapter was going to be longer but I decided to cut out a scene that wouldn't have added anything to the story anyway.
> 
> I do have a bunch of stuff going on soon (YIKES) so I will try my best to finish the rest of this fic this month. Yes, you read that correctly. THIS MONTH. We'll see if I can follow through with that. I'll just be super busy this summer that I won't have time to work on fic so if its not done this month, it's not getting done. 
> 
> We're past halfway through at this time so if there's anything anyone wants to see see in the epilogue/last chapter, let me know so I can try to squeeze it in at the end. Thank you for those of you that are still with me at this point. You are keeping this fic alive.


	8. Only in Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foldo is visited by Viridian in his dreams. The Black Knight with the White Shield pays the friends a visit. Arman attempts to free his father. Viridian has a long overdue talk with his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all thought I was kidding with the frequent updates, huh? Well, here I am with another one. Does this story even make any sense anymore? You tell me.

Foldo had thought he was dreaming. He remembered falling asleep after they had all decided what shifts to take for watch for the night. For a moment, he thought he had awoken early for his shift, but then he remembered that he had already completed his shift earlier, a completely uneventful one at that. Taking stock of his surroundings, Foldo realized he wasn’t in the clearing by the hut where they had made their camp, nor close to the campfire. It was still night, or dark and with that thought alone, Foldo knew where he was.

A figure, young, dressed in black armor was pacing back and forth, muttering angrily.

“Well?” the figure asked suddenly, turning to Foldo for an answer.

Foldo blinked, reaching up to rub his eyes, wondering if he really was in the darkness with the prince or somewhere else entirely. “I’m sorry. What was the question?” Foldo asked softly. He knew that was the only way to talk to the prince, softly, gently, like approaching a wounded animal. It would require a lot of patience on Foldo’s end, but that was alright. Foldo could be patient.

The prince scoffed, resuming his intense pacing. “What drives you to be loyal to someone? How do you choose?” the prince asked.

Foldo was taken back, wondering where this sudden line of questioning came from. “Has something happened?” Foldo asked instead.

The prince fixed him with a withering stare. “You said you would listen and council me if I asked, didn’t you?” the prince asked, his foot tapping rapidly.

“Yes, but I-“

“No exceptions. Just answer the question,” the prince said curtly.

Foldo tried not to sigh. “Very well. You asked about my loyalty. My loyalty is to my friends, family, my kingdom and queen-“

The prince scoffed again, folding his arms against his chest.

“My loyalty is to those I care about. I care about them and I want to do right by them and that includes being loyal. Does that answer your question?” Foldo asked.

“It doesn’t, but I suppose someone like you,” the prince said, looking Foldo up and down with some mild distaste, “would think like that. You’re still so young and foolish. You have no true understanding of what the world is like and have a simplistic view to it all.”

Foldo frowned, feeling like he was being tested. There was another reason why the prince was suddenly questioning him about loyalty, some event that prompted discussion, but it was clear the prince was unwilling to discuss such matters with Foldo. Foldo would have to maneuver some other means of acquiring the information he needed. For a moment, Foldo wished he was clever, like Lavinia or Arman, who knew what other thoughts, what tricks they might have up their sleeves, or how to acquire information from an unwilling subject.

Foldo didn’t think of Iona, for a part of him was still angry at her for putting one of the most important people in Foldo’s life in jeopardy.

But none of them were there and none of them had managed to get the prince to agree to what Foldo had. Perhaps he needed to stop thinking about how Lavinia or Arman might approach this but consider how he himself would handle the situation. It was Foldo’s own words that got him this far, and Foldo was sure he had it in him to handle the matter.

If the prince was asking about loyalty, perhaps he was questioning what he was loyal to, or who was loyal to him. If anything, it seemed likely the prince was questioning why people weren’t loyal to him, not in the way the prince wanted. The Red Riders had served the prince loyally, hadn’t they? But they were also fierce warriors, like Jaro, who seemed to hold little loyalty to anyone except those who were paying them.

“I’m sorry. I do have to admit that I have rather few experiences with questions of loyalty and duty. I’ve only been a knight for a few months. We’re not all born with that sort of experience innate within us,” Foldo said.

The prince turned to face him, eyeing him critically, a suspicious look on his face as if he suspected Foldo to be making light of him. Foldo tried to smile, as sincere as he could and got a scoff in turn.

“I should have known. You are still a child,” the prince said dismissively, turning his back to Foldo.

“I’m loyal to my friends. Perhaps if we were friends-“ Foldo started.

“No. We are not friends, not now or ever. It’s better for you that way. I’m not sure you’ve thought this out but being friends with people on opposite sides of a struggle would leave you in the middle, and you would have to choose. Someone like you wouldn’t like that, I’d wager. It’s better we are not friends, for both our sakes,” the prince said quietly.

Foldo’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected the prince to say anything of the like, not to Foldo at least. He approached the prince cautiously, stopping when he stood by his side, careful to keep his distance. “That was considerate of you,” Foldo said, almost to himself.

The prince turned to look at him, his eyes hardening, a cruel smile on his lips. “They don’t speak of my more redeeming qualities, do they? What do they say about me, Sir Foldo? What does everyone say about the fallen prince?” he asked, his eyes shining with emotion, so many Foldo couldn’t properly keep track of them all.

Foldo turned his gaze away, unable to look the prince in the eye. It was true that anyone hardly spoke of Prince Viridian’s good character. He was clever and powerful, dangerous. Any good mention of it always came with the news of his deeds, of how he ended the Eviellan War, of how he did what no one else could. Everyone remembered Prince Viridian for what he had done but had long since forgotten the man behind those deeds. Actions speak louder than words, after all.

It was with no small amount of shame that Foldo could think of nothing to say to the man, feeling a bit like a failure for doing so. Here Foldo was supposed to bring council to the prince, and was just reminding him of his misdeeds and failure.

The prince turned away, huffing. “That’s what I thought. Perhaps I have my answer, after all,” the prince said almost glumly.

“I’m sure your family thinks highly of you despite everything that’s happened,” Foldo assured him.

The prince laughed, a loud, cold, cruel laugh that told Foldo everything he needed to know about the prince’s family.

“You’re so young and foolish. You still believe that all knights are honest and true, and kings are just and wise. How wrong you are, and you would know if you had ever met my father. He is not what anyone would call a shining example of kinghood. He’s powerful though, and no one would ever cross him. He’s crass and haughty,” the prince added with a grimace, “and yet everyone thinks so highly of him. He could come to court half-naked and drunk and everyone would applaud his efforts. ‘What a good and noble king we have,’ they would say. And yet he inspires love and loyalty. I tried to save the realm, ended a war and inspired nothing! Where is the justice in that?”

Perhaps that was what was bothering the prince: his father. Perhaps there was a way for Foldo to try to reconcile the prince with his father. If he did, Foldo might be able to convince the prince to give up on his quest to use the darkness to conquer all.

“It’s not our place to judge-“ Foldo said.

The prince gave him a scorching look. “Easy for you to say that when you have the young and beautiful Queen Alianor as the ruler of Dagonaut. She’s terribly dull and complacent, but those are easy to overlook, especially when she has the looks to make up for it,” the prince argued.

Or was that relationship too damaged for even Foldo to attempt to fix it.

“I’m sure your brother cares for you still,” Foldo tried instead.

The prince’s face looked troubled instead of the scorn and disdain he had when he spoke of his father.

“I loved him once, truly loved him like I’ve loved nothing since. We were close once,” the prince said softly, sadly.

“What happened?” Foldo asked, feeling he was close to  _ something _ – though he wasn’t sure exactly what that something was.

“Our paths diverged. He had to grow up, train to become a king, train to become my father’s heir. He went to meetings and conferences, left me behind, and I went to war. I toiled in battlements, watching our men suffer, die, while he sat cozy and content in his castle. That’s what happened,” the prince explained bitterly, his hand clenching into a fist.

“Just because your paths differed doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for you still,” Foldo told him. “He’s your brother. I’m sure he remembers the good times you’ve spent together. Love isn’t so easily forgotten, even when all you want to do is forget. I know that too well,” Foldo told him.

The prince, who had so far been avoiding Foldo’s gaze except to glare at him, turning to face the young man, a curious look on his face, looking calmer than Foldo had ever seen him before. “You still loved him even after he died?”

Foldo nodded, swallowing the lump that was starting to form in his throat. He didn’t like to think about that time, those terrible months when a part of Foldo felt dead to everything and everyone but he had to keep going for Piak’s sake, even when all he wanted to do was curl up and hide.

“I don’t think I ever would have forgotten Jussipo. A part of me would have always loved him and remembered him for the time we spent together,” Foldo told him.

The prince scoffed, turning away from Foldo again to look at the empty darkness around them. “That’s different. Romantic love isn’t the same as familial love. It’s not as important,” the prince argued.

Foldo shook his head. “Love is love and it’s all important. Talk to your brother and you’ll see,” Foldo urged him.

“The last time my brother and I spoke, I tried to usurp my father’s throne and he stabbed and killed me. It seems unlikely that he or I would forgive the other,” the prince reminded him.

“But you don’t hold it against him, “ Foldo argued, “otherwise you would have dismissed him like you dismissed your father. Speak to him and you’ll see. ‘Blood is thicker than water.’”

The prince scrutinized him for a long time before looking away. “I suppose it’s worth the effort. Although, I fail to see what it will accomplish,” the prince said.

“You’ll see that the world isn’t as dark and tragic as you think. Forgiveness is possible, if you’re both willing to try. You’re loved still,” Foldo told him.

“Bold words from a man who never met my father or brother, or seen me interact with either of them,” the prince pointed out.

Foldo shrugged. “You may be right about that,” Foldo admitted, “and perhaps I’m wrong about it all, about your brother, about you, but I’m willing to try.”

The prince gave him a curious look. “There’s more to you than I would have thought, Sir Foldo,” the prince told him.

“And there’s more to you than I would have thought, Your Highness. You’re certainly not what I imagined from all the stories,” Foldo said in turn.

The prince chuckled. “We’ll see,” he said, disappearing into the shadows behind him, leaving Foldo alone, again, in the darkness.

When he blinked, Foldo was awake, back in the field with the campfire crackling in the background. It wasn’t night anymore, the sun was starting to peak out on the horizon. He found Jussipo sitting by him, a worried look on his face.

“Are you alright, Foldo? You’ve been asleep for a while now. I was starting to get worried,” Jussipo asked, holding his hand out.

Foldo took it, rising to his feet with the other’s help. “I’m fine. It was just a dream, I think,” Foldo told him as he began dusting off his pants.

Jussipo gave him a skeptical look, which Foldo took to mean that he wasn’t too convincing in his lie. Jussipo leaned in to whisper something to him when a shout from the Red Rider caught his attention.

“Were any of you expecting company?” the Red Rider asked, looking down the hill and pointing to a figure in the distance.

They all turned to look at what the Red Rider was talking about, seeing a man in black armor and a white shield.

“The Black Knight with the White Shield! Sir Edwinem!” Tiuri exclaimed upon spotting the man.

The knight was dressed in his customary black armor, visor obscuring his face, his white shield hung from his left arm, while he held his sword on his right.

“Didn’t he die? In any case, he certainly doesn’t look very happy to see us,” Iona told them, fingers reaching for her dagger.

“I’m sure that’s not true. He may not be happy to see a Red Rider again, but I’m sure he’ll understand once we’ve explained to him. Sir Edwinem is a good man. He won’t attack us without just cause,” Tiuri told them.

“Or so you would think,” the Red Rider muttered to himself as he eyed the knight carefully.

“You’ll see,” Tiuri told them as he approached the man. “Sir Edwinem!” he called. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Tiuri, wait! Something’s not right,” Lavinia called out after him, rushing down to his side.

True enough the knight continued on his way up the hill, making no move to sheath his sword when he approached Tiuri, holding on tightly to the hilt of his sword.

“Sir Edwinem,” Tiuri said, “It’s me, Tiuri. Don’t you recognize me?” he called out to no avail as the knight continued to move, even when Tiuri was long within eyesight and earshot.

“Move!” Iona cried out as the knight raised his sword in the air as if to strike Tiuri.

Before the knight could hit true, the Red Rider jumped in front of the pair, blocking the blow with his own sword.

“Stop it! Stop fighting! You’ll hurt him!” Tiuri called out in dismay as the two figures fought before him.

“Hurt him?! I’m not sure if you noticed but he’s not the one getting hurt here!” the Red Rider exclaimed as he narrowly avoided a blow from the knight.

“What’s happening? Sir Edwinem wouldn’t hurt us, would he?” Piak asked, his eyes wide with fright.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Foldo said quickly. “There’s an explanation for it, surely.”

“He just doesn’t recognize us is all,” Piak argued, looking unconvinced by his own words. “I’m sure that’s it.”

“Can we have this discussion later when I’m not about too pummeled to think, you think?” the Red Rider called out, panting, his movements slowing down.

Sir Edwinem swung his sword, aiming to gut the Red Rider, who sidestepped at the last second, kicking at the man’s heel. The knight stumbled momentarily, leaving him open to attack.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s just confused. I’m sure there’s an explanation!” Tiuri pleaded.

The Red Rider grimaced, stepping back from the knight as he gained his bearing.

Tiuri turned to the knight desperately. “Please, Sir Edwinem, listen! I know the Red Riders are not your friends, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work together. Please, put your sword down. We can’t talk about this.”

The knight turned to look at Tiuri, his helm making it difficult for any of them to make out what he felt or thought. It seemed for a moment that Tiuri’s words had moved him, but then he moved, walking on with his sword drawn as if he hadn’t heard them at all.

The Red Rider put up his own sword, engaging the knight in battle once more.

“Your words don’t seem to be reaching him. I’ll keep him busy, but I can’t hold him off forever,” the Red Rider told them through gritted teeth. His movements were slow, slower than before and every blow seemed to tire him out more and more while the knight showed no signs of slowing.

They all turned to Tiuri for answers. “Tiuri, what should we do?” Lavinia asked.

Iona scoffed. “Is that still a question at this point? We stop him. And if that means killing him so be it,” Iona argued while she kept her eyes on the Red Rider.

“Is that your answer to everything? Killing it?” Foldo asked angrily, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Jussipo shook his head. “Foldo, please. Now isn’t the time for this,” he whispered urgently, tugging on his sleeve.

Iona turned her attention away from the Red Rider, eyes widening in surprise, then shifting from surprise to worry. She knew he knew. Foldo wondered if that was something he should have tried keeping to himself, but there was nothing for it now.

“We can’t kill him! He’s the Black Knight with the White Shield, the most famous knight in Dagonaut and Unauwen alike. Everyone would hate us if we killed him. Please say we won’t,” Piak pleaded.

Jussipo turned to comfort his brother. “Of course, we aren’t killing him. We’re supposed to be knights and knights don’t go around killing other knights for no good reason.” He turned to Tiuri then, “right, Tiuri?”

“Oh, and I’m sure you’re an expert on what knights are supposed to do, right, Jussipo? A dead man who came back to life and was never knighted would know all about that, right?” Iona argued, casting a suspicious gaze on Jussipo once more.

Foldo stepped between them, using his height to his advantage for once, looking down at Iona. “That’s enough, Iona. Jussipo trained to be a knight just like the rest of us and he doesn’t deserve to be questioned like this,” Foldo told her.

Iona scoffed, undeterred by Foldo’s use of his height to tower over her. She gazed up at him defiantly. “Of course, you would be the one to say that. It’s not as if you don’t have a vested interest in the matter. Your judgment’s clouded, and if you bothered using your mind for longer than a second, you would see that not everything is alright with your dear dead friend,” Iona argued.

“Foldo’s not stupid! And you can’t talk to him like that!” Piak yelled angrily, stepping up to face Iona.

“Piak, please,” Jussipo said softly, trying to urge his brother back. Piak only pulled away, glaring at Iona angrily.

“Stop arguing! This isn’t helping anyone. We have to decide what to do and quickly!” Lavinia cut in, glancing nervously at where the Red Rider and the knight fought.

“We won’t kill anyone,” Tiuri said sternly, then turned to Iona, “but we’ll disarm him, tie him up, and figure out what to do with him later. Agreed?”

Iona huffed, but nodded.

“No hurting him,” Piak reminded her.

Iona rolled her eyes but made no move to argue with him.

Jussipo turned to his brother, placing his hands on his shoulders. “You stay here. This could be dangerous. Promise me, Piak,” Jussipo told him.

Piak shook his head. “That’s what you said last time and look how that ended up! I won’t let you die again. I’ll help you regardless of what you want,” Piak told him stubbornly.

Jussipo sighed, a wan smile on his face. “You’re not going to forget about that, are you?”

“Not as long as we both live, no,” Piak said.

“Remember, we’re going to disarm him, not hurt him,” Tiuri reminded them.

Iona was the first to move, moving out of the knight’s field of vision, creeping up behind him. She jumped on the knight’s back, an arm wrenched around his neck. The knight threw his head back, trying to dislodge her, all the while the Red Rider tried to disarm the knight, a single hand reaching for the man’s sword while he was distracted.

Tiuri crept up behind the knight, taking Iona’s lead while Jussipo and Foldo, ready to relieve the Red Rider at any moment. Lavinia stayed behind, gripping Piak’s arm in a tight grip, resulting in a struggle for control between the two.

The knight, in a move that was far more perceptive than anyone would have thought, brought up his shield in his left arm, hitting the Red Rider at the back of his head with it. The Red Rider yelped in pain, distracting Iona from her goal. The knight threw his head back, hitting Iona square in the face, loosing her hold on the man’s armor. She managed to pull his visor back before falling flat on her back. Tiuri quickly ran to Iona’s side, pulling her up to her feet.

Iona managed to expose the knight’s face to them, the sight stunning them. The visor revealed a pair of completely black eyes, suddenly explaining the man’s strange behavior. Lavinia visibly pales, her grip on Piak’s shirt weakening.

“You take his left, while I’ll get his right,” Foldo told Jussipo. Jussipo scowled, eyes narrowing in disapproval, but nodding in agreement. Jussipo knew what Foldo was trying to do, but there was little Jussipo could do about it at this point, much to Foldo’s relief.

The Red Rider reared back, clutching the back of his head as he grimaced in pain. Foldo nodded to Jussipo and together they moved forward to fight the knight. Foldo, with his height, tries his best to draw the knight’s attention, while Jussipo attacks his shielded side, hacking at the white shield with his sword.

For a moment, it seems like they’re wearing the knight down, pushing further and further back, until the knight bent his knees, drew his sword back, swung it in a powerful swing. Foldo’s eyes widened, bringing up his sword to block the blow, narrowing avoiding it but the sheer force of it was enough to knock Foldo into Jussipo’s, throwing them both off their feet. Jussipo’s sword flew out of his hand by the shock of it all, where it landed slowly in the grass a few feet away.

Foldo landed on Jussipo in a heap, their legs tangled together as they hit the ground. Foldo tried as quickly as he could to rise to his feet as he saw the knight approach them, filling Foldo with dread. Neither of them was wearing any armor, leaving them vulnerable and exposed to the knight’s attacks.

Fortunately for them, the Red Rider had recovered at this point, drew up his sword, shouted at the knight. “Over here, you lummox,” he called out.

The knight stopped mid-step, his attention returning to the Red Rider. Piak pulled free from Lavinia’s grasp and ran over to Jussipo and Foldo, helping them untangle themselves while the clang of steel upon steel rung out in the background.

The Red Rider’s movements were sluggish, still dazed from the knight’s blow from before, slowing with each moment. Iona pulled Tiuri with her, whispering something in his ear while pointing to the knight’s shield.

“So silent now, sir? I recall you used to be much chattier before, almost clever with all your quips, or are you beyond that now?” the Red Rider asked between pants.

“Save your breath,” Iona scolded him, using her blade to try to find a weak spot in the knight’s armor. “The darkness has a hold of him now. Don’t use your fire.”

The Red Rider scoffed, narrowly avoiding a wound to the chest, the knight’s sword slashing through his shirt instead. “Even I’m not that stupid,” he told her.

“Could have fooled me,” Iona replied.

“Keep an eye on the shield,” the Red Rider warned Tiuri, who tried to knock the shield off the knight’s arm. Despite their continued training with arms, Tiuri remained a poor swordsman, not as pitiful as before, but he was nowhere close to the knight’s skill level. Then again, none of them were.

Iona grinned as her short sword managed to find a weak spot, slashing at it. The knight cried out in pain, clutching his side with his left hand.

“Iona, don’t! You’ll kill him!” Tiuri cried out.

The knight turned quickly, turning to face Iona, who drew back in fear before slashing at the knight with her sword. As she swung her sword, the knight kicked her in the stomach, sending her back, rolling down the field.

“Iona!” Tiuri cried out, drawing the knight’s attention once more.

The knight turned to them, threw his shield at the Red Rider, catching the Red Rider off guard as he ducked his head to avoid the blow. While the Red Rider was distracted, the knight turned to Tiuri, who had no armor or shield to protect him. Tiuri, who was the worst swordsman of them all and could scarcely block a blow. Tiuri, who was the most inexperienced of them facing off with one of the most accomplished knights in all of Unauwen.

Foldo scrambled to his feet, while Jussipo rushed over to grab his sword, both eager to help defend their friend, but were still too far to help him.

The knight raised his sword, gripping it in both hands and swung his sword. Before the sword could connect with anything, however, a white blinding light engulfed them all.

It was too bright for Foldo to see anything. He raised his arm to shield his eyes, but his eyes were still blinded by the sheer strength of the light before them to really see anything. When his eyes adjusted, he could see Lavinia approaching the knight.

“No!” Lavinia cried out, her hand outstretched towards them, white light emanating from her palm. The knight crouched down on his knees, clutched his head as threads of darkness flowed around him, almost like leaves in the wind.

The knight shook his head, as if trying to clear his head from something.

“That’s it! He’s fighting it! Keep going, Lavinia!” Tiuri cried out, keeping his eyes on the knight.

Lavinia slowly walked toward them until she was standing just before the knight. It only took another few seconds for the darkness to disappear entirely. The knight opened his eyes again, eyes brown instead of black, but he collapsed on the ground before them.

They all made their way to stand around the knight. Piak poked the knight with the foot cautiously, drawing back in case the knight was pretending to be unconscious. The knight remained still, apparently truly unconscious by the encounter.

“Anyone have any idea what that was all about?” the Red Rider asked as they all glanced down at the unconscious knight before them.

*

Lord Fantumar was arrested in Unauwen but taken to Dagonaut for sentencing. He had worked with Prince Viridian, who had tried to usurp his father, but Lord Fantumar had been actively working several prominent families in Dagonaut, helping in carrying out their deaths. He had killed Sir Tiuri the Valiant and burned down Castle Tehuri, the Tiuri family estate, acted through his own volition without approval from the crown.

Through an agreement between Dagonaut and Unauwen’s rulers, Lord Fantumar had been sent to answer for his crimes against Dagonaut, already deemed a criminal by King Favian and exiled from Unauwen. Queen Alianor had started the process of gathering evidence to present at his trial, with a date already set for when the former Lord Fantumar would face justice for his deeds.

Arman wasn’t going to wait that long to free his father though. He already knew what the sentence would be, the same anyone would face for crimes against the crown: death. He had to act quickly, before the trial could take place. A far more romantic person, someone like Jussipo, would have argued for freeing his father during the trial or during his execution, making for a terribly dramatic story, and while Arman would agree it would make for a good story, he lived in a world of logic and reason. A practical approach, while not as heroic as a rescue at trial or execution, would be the best approach. Arman was trying not to be seen by anyone, a great risk he would face with a dramatic, heroic rescue. He was trying to make it through this encounter with his title and reputation intact.

Arman started with the learning and controlling the ‘gift’ the prince had bestowed upon him. He couldn’t free his father if he didn’t know exactly what tools he had at his disposal after all.

It had been difficult at first. The prince had agreed to Arman’s terms, shook his hand and left Arman to his own devices without any instructions or even hint as to what he had gifted the young man. It had taken many tries to discover that, when Arman chose, the earth moved. It took a whole day for Arman to gain the level of control he needed in order to complete his task. It had frustrated Arman to no end, but it couldn’t be helped. If he had lost an entire day to controlling the gift, then there was little Arman could do to change that.

Next step was to gather the supplies he needed in order to ensure that Lord Fantumar’s – the former Lord Fantumar – escape went smoothly. It was still strange to Arman to think of himself as Lord Fantumar. His father was a criminal now, stripped of his rank, leaving Arman as the Lord. Arman had tried his best to step up at Castle Fantumar, but he still felt like a child, still felt like Arman the boy instead of Lord Fantumar the knight. He wondered what he had to do to change that, or would he always feel like he was a boy pretending to be a lord. His father had never prepared for that moment, likely thinking he would be the Lord of Fantumar for a long time, never envisioning his fall. Arman supposed there was nothing for it now.

After he gathered what he needed, Arman had to choose the best time to do as he planned. He decided on night, where there were less people about, less eyes to notice his movements. It was still a risky plan even with his planning and with the added help of the prince’s power. Someone could still see him and mark him as a stranger to Dagonaut or spot them afterwards. Despite that, Arman was determined to follow through with his plan. He had given so much, risked too much to turn back now.

Arman waited by the Blue River until the sun had set and the moon was shining overhead. He wore a ratty old cloak that had seen better days and a scarf pulled over the lower half of his face, hoping the combination would be enough to prevent anyone from identifying him.

Arman scowled at the moon above him, wishing for once that it had been cloudy to cover him, but found himself starting a clear and starry night.

Deciding to approach the castle from behind, Arman began the arduous task of making his way to the castle from below. Arman had taken to memorize the guard’s schedule, leaving him only a few scant minutes to make it across the field without anyone noticing him. Arman made his way quickly across, sighing in relief when he made it through without any trouble.

The dungeons, he found, were located on the far side of the castle, located in the bowels of the city. Now that he was standing beside them – more or less, anyway - the tricky part would be to find his father. Arman hadn’t wanted to risk bribing anyone for fear they would be on to his father to a different cell or part of the castle. He had to go in blind and hope for the best.

With a deep breath, Arman closed his eyes, concentrating. The earth shook beneath him, all around him. He raised his hand, concentrating the force of his newfound powers on the castle walls before him. The stone rattled violently before him before it collapsed, forcing a crude hole in the wall, dust flying everywhere. Arman was grateful for the scarf over his face, which prevented him from inhaling the dust. It didn’t protect his eyes though, leaving Arman blinking, tears streaming down his face as he tried to see through the debris.

Arman frowned as he found himself in an enclosed room with large barrels of something in them – wine perhaps? Arman was starting to think that perhaps finding the right place would be more difficult than he imagined. It was at times like these that Arman really wished his life was more like the stories. If this had been one of Foldo’s stories, Arman would have found his father right away. Instead he had to look for him, losing precious time while doing so.

Arman waited a moment to see if anyone would come to investigate the noise. No one did, but Arman knew it was only a matter of time before they would make their way to the cellar, or wherever Arman was. He had little time to lose.

Arman raised his arm overhead, forcing the powers to work on the stone above him. It was too late that he realized he was standing directly below the stone while stone rained down on him. Arman stepped back, avoiding the larger pieces of stones from falling on his head. He waited until the debris cleared up before looking up at the hole he’d created, trying to spot a clue or hint as to what was above him. There wasn’t a lot of light in the room, making the task more difficult. Arman squinted up at it, finding it completely dark.

It was only when it was too late when Arman realized that something had fallen through the hole he’d created and landed squarely on Arman.

“Gerroff!” Arman hissed at the person that had landed on top. The person groaned, rising to his feet slowly, shaking their head free of debris much like a dog would shake water off after a bath, showering Arman in dust.

“Give a man a minute. It’s not every day that a man stumbles upon a hole where there hadn’t been one before…I’m not dreaming, am I?” the man – by the sounds of it – asked him, looking at his surroundings. “The wine cellar! By god, fortune has smiled upon me today!”

Arman wasted no time, drawing out a small dagger he had hidden on his person and aimed it at the man’s throat.

“Are you –“ Arman coughed, trying to lower his voice. “Are you a prisoner here?” Arman asked the man.

“Who’s asking?” the man asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion, eyes darting back and forth between Arman and the dagger he held.

Arman brought it closer to the man’s throat, close enough to nick the man’s skin. “I’ll be the one asking the questions here. Are you a prisoner here or not?”

The man licked his lips, looking far too relaxed for Arman’s liking, which answered his question for him. Arman pushed the man away, using his powers to bring down a torrent of stone down upon the man until he buried underneath a layer of stone, not enough to kill him, but enough to keep him trapped. The man remained still under the rubble. Arman hit him with the hilt of his dagger for good measure before proceeding with his plan.

It wasn’t the most terrible thing Arman had done, but it certainly felt close to it. The entire evening left him feeling rattled, nervous, anxious and terrible, but he couldn’t dwell on it. He could live in his guilt later when he was safe and out of danger.

The dungeons were above him, which solved one problem but left Arman with another. How was he supposed to get up there? There were no stairs that Arman could see leading up to the dungeons. There were likely some in the corridor or hallway outside the cellar, but Arman couldn’t risk running into guards.

Instead Arman used his powers to make a pile of stones for himself as makeshift stairs he used to climb up into the dungeons. He found himself inside a cell with a wooden door and a small enclosed window as his only means to escape. Arman aimed at the door, using his powers to shake it, damaging it until it broke loose, leaving behind only fragments of wood and iron. Arman stepped over it and into the hallway. There were no guards patrolling the hallway, but Arman knew it was only a matter of time until one came to check on the prisoners.

Arman wished the cells were marked by something, but once again, life never proved to be easy for him. Arman had to go through each cell, opening and closing the small window slot to each door until he recognized the person inside.

It wasn’t until Arman reached the last cell in the corridor that he saw the familiar coat Lord Fantumar had loved so much. Arman felt his heart catch in his throat. His moment had come, and Arman found himself at a loss at what to say to the man. But he had to say something, and Arman couldn’t waste time trying to find the right words. There would never be time for that, it seemed.

“Lord Fantumar!” he whispered urgently.

The man had turned, rising to his feet, looking the worse for wear, face covered in grime and dirt, smelling like he hadn’t showered in weeks, but Arman could recognize those familiar, cold grey eyes, and the greying hair.

“Are you here to accuse me of causing all this trouble? I can assure you that I am not behind such-“

“Father,” Arman said softly.

Lord Fantumar’s stern gaze softened, eye’s widening in surprise. “Arman?” he asked, walking to the cell window, hands wrapping around the bars. “Is that really you, son?”

“It is. We must hurry. There isn’t much time,” Arman urged him, glancing back and forth to see if there were any guards closing in on them. The hallway remained quiet save for the pounding of Arman’s heart, which beat louder and louder with each passing moment.

“Arman, what are you doing here?” Lord Fantumar asked, his eyes hardening at once. “Are you here to accuse me of more criminal deeds? Or renounce me for everything?”

“No!” Arman cried out, knowing the sound of Lord Fantumar about to embark on another angry tirade. “I’m here to free you. Listen and do what I say. We don’t have much time before we’re discovered.”

Lord Fantumar frowned. “Free me? Why would you free me for? You sided with your friends, after all. You made your choice and I made mine,” he said proudly, eyes glaring at Arman fiercely.

Arman hesitated, unsure of what to say to convince his father that he truly meant to free him. There wasn’t time for a heated argument, or for flowery words. There was only time for truth, for what Arman held in his heart, the words he’d always wanted to say but never had the courage to say aloud.

“You made some terrible choices, father, and cost men – good men – their lives. There’s no excusing what you did. You did it for all the wrong reasons as well,” Arman said, wondering what his father really wanted. He recalled the prince telling him that his father had wanted power. Had Lord Fantumar truly betrayed his countrymen, fellow knights, for more power when he had already been the most powerful knight in all of Dagonaut? “I’m not sure I’ll truly understand your reasoning for doing what you did, but despite it all, I don’t believe you deserve death. Not many see it the way I do and so I had to take it upon myself to see you freed.”

Arman reached out, shaking the earth until the outer wall of his father’s cell crumbled behind him, leaving an open space where the wall used to be, free to the open air.

“Climb the stones down to the field. By the Blue River, there’s a boat waiting for you with food, clothing and supplies for your journey. Take the boat north and abandon it before you reach Oventar, from there make your way to the Eastlands. You’ve been exiled from Unauwen and hedge knights from Dagonaut may set out looking for you. You’ll have to stay in Eastland for a time…I’ll stay here in the castle for an hour and create a diversion for you to buy you time,” Arman instructed.

Lord Fantumar’s fixed him with a scrutinizing gaze the likes of which Arman hadn’t faced in years. He tried not squirm underneath the gaze, remembering he had long since grown past yearning for his father’s approval.

“Why are you doing this?” Lord Fantumar asked again.

Arman sighed. “You’ve done terrible things, but you aren’t a terrible man. You have some good in you. Take this chance to make up for all the wrongs you’ve committed. Become a good man, one I’d be proud to call my father,” Arman told him, looking his father straight in the eye.

Lord Fantumar looked at him for a long time before speaking. “I can’t promise I’ll become a good man…” the man started.

Arman felt his heart sink in his chest. Here Arman had gone through the trouble of freeing his father, only to have him refuse the one request Arman had of it. Perhaps it had been too much for Arman to hope for. His father was too old to change, too set in his ways to want to change, too stubborn and pig-headed to see that he was in the wrong. A part of Arman wanted to leave the man there in his cell. After all, Arman had come to free his father so he could become a good man, something he could never do if he was executed. Arman had no desire or wish to free his father only for him to return to his old habits.

“…but I’ll try. For you,” Lord Fantumar promised.

Arman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Truly? You promise?” Arman asked, voice soft, feeling small like a child again, his hope returning to him once more.

Lord Fantumar nodded, taking a long look at Arman’s face as if trying to commit every feature to memory. He backed away, turning to look out the hole Arman had created in his way. He looked back once for what Arman knew would be for the last time.

“I know I’ve never said it, but I’m proud of you, Arman. Be the knight I never was.”

With that said, the former Lord of Fantumar descended out the wall, disappearing into the night.

Arman stared after the man as if staring would bring him back. It wouldn’t but it didn’t stop Arman from trying. He felt torn, a part of him sad to know he would never see his father again but relieved he wouldn’t have to see his father executed before everyone. He also felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like a chapter of his life had come to a close to – not a truly satisfying conclusion – but one that he could live with. He allowed himself a moment of sentimentality before returning to his senses.

One problem was solved, but there was still the danger the greater darkness posed to them all. Arman hoped the others had better luck than he had in trying to figure out how to stop the prince. Arman had given them time. He just hoped it would be enough.

*

The group found themselves at a loss at what to do with the knight, unsure if it was safe to touch him, remembering what it was like when Jussipo touched his lute.

The Red Rider, Jaro, was the first to move, walking away from the group while the rest of them continued staring.

“What do we do now?” Piak asked turning to Tiuri, while the rest of the group did the same.

Tiuri sighed, wishing, for one, he wouldn’t be the one everyone looked to for an answer. Tiuri felt as lost as the rest of his friends, but somehow he was always the one everyone turned to for answers.

“We tie him up, of course, and then question him?” Jussipo asked, frowning, brows furrowed in thought. “We still don’t know why he attacked us.”

Iona scoffed, arms crossed defensively against her chest. “Oh, we don’t know do we?” she asked pointedly, glaring at Jussipo suspiciously.

“That’s enough!” Tiuri told them, stepping in between the two before another argument could. He fixed a stern look at Iona. “Enough of that! The rest of us trust Jussipo. You need to get past your suspicions if you’re going to be working with us, Iona.”

Iona’s eyes widened, and then burst out laughing, a cold, cruel laugh. The Red Rider, Jaro, came up with rope, looking back and forth between Iona and Tiuri.

“Missed a joke, have I? I like a good laugh as much as the next person,” Jaro said, a sardonic grin on his face.

“I’m not sure any of this is particularly amusing,” Lavinia said coldly, ignoring Jaro altogether.

Jaro took that as a hint to keep out of it, kneeled and began the process of tying up the unconscious knight who still laid still before them.

“Are you all too dense to see it?” Iona asked. 

“Why don’t you explain it to us then?” Tiuri asked her.

Iona turned her suspicious glare away from Jussipo and turned to address Tiuri. “You said the darkness brought Jussipo back. You failed to mention the Black Knight’s return, but seeing as he attacked us, that likely means someone commanded him to attack us, likely being the person who’s behind this all: Prince Viridian.”

Tiuri frowned, remembering what his mother had told him. “My mother did say that everyone who came back had a purpose for being here. If Sir Edwinem truly wanted to hurt us, why didn’t he do so before then if that was his purpose? He had the opportunity and the means,” Tiuri pointed out.

Iona shrugged her shoulders. “I have a theory, but you won’t like it,” she said grimly.

“Tell us, then. We’re facing a powerful enemy. We all know we’ll be hearing more bad news than good news at this point,” Lavinia told her, a troubled look on her face. Tiuri reached out and held her hand in his own, giving it a light squeeze. Lavinia turned to smile at him, a wan smile, but her expression remained troubled.

Before Iona could speak, the knight stirred just as Jaro finished tying his hands behind his back. Sir Edwinem blinked, looking dazed and disorientated. He frowned as he examined his surroundings. “Where am I?” His eyes widened when he spotted Tiuri and his friends. “Sir Tiuri! What are you doing here? And what are you doing in the company of a Red Rider? Are you in trouble?” the man asked, casting a suspicious glance at Jaro.

“Former Red Rider, and I have a name, you know,” Jaro corrected.

“I care not for the feelings of the one whose actions led to my death, you scoundrel!” the man hissed angrily.

Iona fixed Tiuri with a meaningful look, which he ignored, stepping forward to attend to the knight. “Do you remember what happened, Sir Edwinem?” Tiuri asked.

The knight frowned, concentrating for a few moments before his eyes widened in realization. “The prince! I saw the prince!” he exclaimed.

“Prince Viridian?” Lavinia asked.

The knight nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid I have troubling news for you all,” Sir Edwinem told them.

“Start at the beginning, Sir Edwinem. Take your time,” Tiuri told him.

The man struggled against the ropes. “Are these really necessary?” he asked, wiggling.

“Yes,” Iona said immediately before Tiuri could answer.

Tiuri and Lavinia both glared at her, before Tiuri turned to address the knight. “I’m afraid so, Sir Edwinem. You attacked us. We had to take measures to ensure our safety. I’m sure you understand,” Tiuri explained.

Sir Edwinem nodded. “Yes, of course, that seems logical, especially when…” he trailed off.

“When what? If you’re going to start a thought, you might as well finish it,” Jaro scolded him.

Sir Edwinem glared at the man. “Is it necessary for him to be here? He hasn’t managed to wrangle you into one of his schemes, has he?” the knight asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the Red Rider.

Tiuri sighed. “I’m afraid it’s a rather complicated matter.” Tiuri turned to address the Red Rider. “Why don’t you give us a few minutes, Jaro?”

Jaro gave him an exasperated look. “Really? I go from one despot to another?” he said, mostly to himself as he turned to look to at Iona. She shrugged, prompting the Red Rider to walk away, grumbling to himself angrily all the while.

Tiuri waited until the Red Rider was out of earshot to address the knight again. “Why don’t you continue with your story? You said you saw the prince. What happened exactly?” Tiuri asked.

“I was tending to the king in Unauwen when he appeared from nowhere beside me. We spoke for a bit before he grew angry and told me that…” the knight looked down to the ground, looking almost ashamed. “He told me that he brought me back for a reason, and he was the one who commanded me. He told me to seek you out, your group and the Red Rider who failed him. He said I couldn’t fail him, not with the darkness inside of me. The darkness overtook me then. From then I remember nothing else. I woke up here with my hands tied,” Sir Edwinem explained.

Iona’s eyes widened in shock. She pointed at the knight, a triumphant look on her face. “I knew it! I knew it!”

They all turned to look at her, puzzled looks on their faces.

“Don’t you see? This confirms it! Each person who was brought back has a purpose. I thought about what the prince would want to do with returning people back from the dead, especially those who had worked against him? It could only be to serve as his agents, spies. Think about it: how did the prince know about Jaro, about his failure to kill Lavinia? We haven’t spoken to the prince, so as far as he knew Jaro was still out to try and kill her. But Jussipo was here when we came and saw us working for a truce. That’s how the prince knew, because Jussipo’s spying on us, just like Sir Edwinem was likely spying on the king of Unauwen,” Iona argued.

Jussipo’s face grew pale. “I’m not a spy! I haven’t spoken to the prince either, and even if I had, I would never tell him anything! You’re all my friends and I would never betray you. Never!” He turned to Foldo, a desperate look on his face. “You have to believe me! You believe me, don’t you?” he asked.

“Of course, I believe you. You’d never betray us,” Foldo answered

Iona groaned, her triumphant look remained by a scowl. “See? This is why I never said anything. I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You’re all too blinded by your compassion to see the ugly truth even when it’s staring you right in the face,” Iona said.

“The prince could have discovered the truth through some other means. After all, it has been some time since he gave the Red Rider his gift. Perhaps he thought he had merely failed rather than learned it through spying,” Foldo argued, fixing Iona a suspicious look of his own. That look on his friend’s face puzzled Tiuri. Foldo had a gentle, noble heart, and he never would have thought him to be reluctant to give Iona another chance.

Tiuri was stunned by the revelation, unsure of what to think or do. As much as he hated to admit it, Iona had a point. The prince did know about Jaro somehow, and the more he thought about it, the more it explained the resurrections. Jussipo was brought back to spy on them, while Sir Edwinem would keep an eye on the king of Unauwen, and Sir Tiuri the Valiant had been brought back as a means of controlling Tiuri himself, possibly holding his own mother hostage at this point. It all made sense no matter how much he didn’t want it to.

Tiuri turned to Lavinia, who shared the same troubled look on her face, looking grim. One look and Tiuri knew she agreed with Iona.

“You may have a point,” Tiuri said diplomatically.

“What?!” Jussipo and Foldo exclaimed out loud.

“You can’t mean to say you believe her, Tiuri? Jussipo would never do that,” Piak argued.

“Perhaps not intentionally, but it would explain some things,” Tiuri pointed out. Now Iona’s reluctance to include Jussipo made sense. If Jussipo was spying on them, even unintentionally, then the prince would learn of their plans, and any advantage they had would be lost. Tiuri thought back to what Jussipo knew. He knew Jaro had joined them, but nothing of the plan they made, nothing of the plan Arman had set out, nothing about the meeting place where Arman had said he would try to draw the prince out and where they had to find some way to trap him. Perhaps, they could still defeat the man despite his spying.

“Perhaps he’s just listening. As far as we know, Jussipo has never been taken over by the darkness like Sir Edwinem has. Perhaps the prince can listen in to what we’re saying without Jussipo or us realizing it. Perhaps that’s why Jussipo’s been forced to act against it, because he’s just meant to spy. If he never does anything, we would let our guard down, trust him, tell him what we planned. The prince wouldn’t need to use Jussipo to hurt us that way, not when he would gain more by listening in while we think Jussipo’s in control,” Lavinia explained, a guilty look on her face as she saw Jussipo’s crestfallen expression. “If it means anything, I don’t think you’re actively working against us,” she assured him.

“If that’s the case-“ Jussipo started, raising his voice over Foldo and Piak’s objections. “If that’s the case, what do we do? What can we do? I don’t want to help the prince, even inadvertently, but you’re still my friends, and you’re still in trouble and I want to help any way I can,” Jussipo asked.

“It’s not true,” Foldo said stubbornly.

“We can’t take that chance that it is true,” Jussipo said softly, his eyes sad.

“You’re certainly not helping by being here,” Iona pointed out coldly.

They all turned to glare at her then. Iona shrugged. “You can hate me for saying it, but it doesn’t make it any less true,” she argued.

“If the prince knows that we know that he’s using people to spy on us, and, if he’s clever, then he knows he won’t be able to use them as spies anymore,” Lavinia argued. “We’re not going to be giving him any useful information unless we intentionally want to misdirect him. As long as we don’t tell Jussipo anything then-”

“That means I can’t be used to spy on you anymore, which means I can stay and help,” Jussipo finished for her, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Tiuri grimaced. While that was certainly true, it would be better to send Jussipo home, where he wouldn’t cause any trouble for anyone, but Tiuri knew that wasn’t going to happen. Jussipo’s noble nature wouldn’t allow him to go home and do nothing while the rest of them tried to save the world, and Foldo and Piak would argue against it as well. Lavinia would likely side with whatever Tiuri decided, while Tiuri already knew Iona would argue against Jussipo’s continued presence. He wasn’t sure if Jaro would receive a vote but decided it didn’t matter as he would agree with Iona anyway. They would all follow Tiuri’s lead, leaving Tiuri, once again to decide what they should do. It was a difficult decision and Tiuri knew what the logical decision should be, even if his heart pulled him in a different direction. His heart, however, had gotten him to Unauwen, had led him to save Unauwen from a great darkness. Perhaps it was time he listened to it once more.

“Jussipo should stay,” Tiuri said at last, “He wants to help and I’ve never been one to reject help when offered.”

Iona glared at him. “This is the stupidest mistake you’ve made thus far, Tiuri,” she told him, then she sighed, expression softening. “I don’t agree with it, but I can see where you’re coming from and I won’t argue against it anymore as long as we take the necessary precautions.”

“Such as?” Foldo asked.

Iona gave Jussipo an exasperated look, leading Jussipo to sigh this time. “I know what that means. How about I help Sir Edwinem here, while the rest of you decide what to do with everything?” Jussipo offered.

Foldo frowned. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Jussipo nodded, grinning up at the other man. “Of course, it’ll get me a chance to get to know Sir Edwinem a little better. Maybe there’s a few tricks he can teach me,” Jussipo told him.

“If you’re sure,” Foldo said, not looking entirely convinced.

“Go on. You can fill me in on the insignificant details later,” Jussipo said.

With that said, Tiuri, Lavinia, Iona, Foldo and Piak walked away from the two, stopping when they were well out of earshot.

“What if they attack us? Did you think about that?” Iona said immediately.

Tiuri frowned. “Then we’ll stop them. We did it once and we can do it again,” Tiuri argued.

Iona rolled her eyes. “An unnecessary task we should bother ourselves with, but I’ve agreed to let it go. I just thought to warn you, in case you forgot.”

“We haven’t,” Foldo said coldly.

“Let’s discuss what we know so far,” Tiuri said quickly, not liking the look on Foldo’s face. Perhaps it made sense for Foldo to dislike Iona for what she was saying. He was protective of Jussipo, and was trying his best to protect him, even if it meant butting heads with his own friends at times.

“Arman’s given us two weeks to arrive at the Seastone Tower. He said he would draw Prince Viridian out somehow, but we still have to find a way to keep him trapped, preventing him from escaping into the shadows or shadow realm, or whatever he’s been doing,” Lavinia told them.

“He’s been resurrecting people to serve as his agents, using them to attack us when it’s the most convenient for him and possibly using them to spy on his,” Iona added.

They all remained silent for a moment.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s all we know,” Piak said, a glum look on his face.

It was certainly…discouraging to hear that they hadn’t much of a plan and hadn’t learned much of the prince’s plan either.

“So we have to find a way to trap the prince long enough to let Lavinia use her powers on him. His powers are Eviellan, aren’t they? Perhaps an Eviellan would know how to trap him,” Iona pointed out, looking at Tiuri pointedly.

“But we don’t know any Eviellan, aside from Tiuri and his mother. His mother doesn’t know anything about Eviellan magic,” Lavinia pointed out.

“Then that leaves us with you, doesn’t it?” Iona told them.

Lavinia’s eyes widened as she looked away from the other woman, looking down to her feet to avoid her gaze. “Yes, but I don’t know much about my powers, where they came from or how they work. I just use them whenever I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I don’t know anything about trapping someone,” she admitted.

“Then we should find out. We don’t have any Eviellan leads, but perhaps there’s something in Mistrinaut that can help us with your powers. It’s the only lead we got at the moment,” Iona argued.

Lavinia kept her gaze downward, the troubled look returning to her face. Tiuri knew she didn’t like the idea of returning to Mistrinaut, but he had to admit that Iona was right, and they were running out of time and leads.

“Lavinia?” Tiuri asked. He stepped closer to her, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We’ll figure something else out,” he assured her.

Lavinia turned up to look at him, a wan smile on her face. “No, it’s alright, Tiuri. I always knew we would have to return to Mistrinaut. I just kept hoping we wouldn’t have to, or another solution would present itself, but nothing has. If we must return to Mistrinaut to find answers, then that’s what we’ll have to do.”

“Well? Would you like to tell the rest of us what you think?” Iona asked.

Tiuri turned his gaze away from Lavinia, turning to address his friends. “We’re going to Mistrinaut.”

*

Prince Iridian had to cut his journey across the kingdom short to return to the city of Unauwen. He had received letters from his father’s advisor informing him of the king’s continued illness and the sudden appearance and disappearance of Sir Edwinem. That bit of news itself was most troubling to Prince Iridian. A man didn’t just appear back from the grave, not without a dark force at work. Something was terribly wrong in Unauwen, and Iridian wasn’t there to fix it.

The kingdom itself was in a terrible state, only adding the prince’s troubles. There had been rumors of a mob rallying around his brother’s name, claiming he had returned from the dead. When Iridian had gone to investigate the matter, he found the mob gone, scattered across the winds with only a pile of ash to serve as proof that anything foul had taken place. One of his brother’s Red Riders had apparently burned a man alive, and then vanished, escaping capture. So not only was there a Red Rider freely roaming and killing people left and right, but people were also rising to join the ranks of an army that didn’t exist for a man who was dead. The rumor itself had particularly disturbed Iridian, especially with the news he’d received about Sir Edwinem’s status. It certainly made Iridian question whether there was some truth to that rumor after all.

There was, however, very little Iridian could do about the matter now. He’d sent knights, men he’d trusted, to investigate the matter while he would return to Unauwen to check on his father. A Red Rider running free and killing people wasn’t something he wished to overlook, but Iridian had a duty to his father and kingdom. He had to ensure there wasn’t some plot to kill his already weakened father, which seemed a possibility at this point.

Iridian would have liked to rush home right away, but his own physical needs prevented him from traveling so fast. He had to eat and sleep sometime, and his horses needed rest as well. It wouldn’t do for him to run them ragged, despite how much he desperately craved to be home at once.

His thoughts turned to Alianor, who he desperately longed to see. They had exchanged letters, and informing him of his life proved to be a great source of peace for Iridian, but he wished he had more than just letters. He had to admit that he was smitten with her. Her continued support and advice had only made him like her more. He missed the sound of her voice, her laugh, the strong way she held herself, the bold confidence that made her a true Queen. He wished he could marry her already, but he was a prince and that infinitely complicated matters, especially as the only heir to Unauwen, now with his brother gone. There were so many questions and matters to attend to such as where they would live, and what power they would each have in their respective kingdoms and whether it was possible for either of them to rule while living somewhere else. It wasn’t for the first time that Iridian wished he was just a simple man marrying a simple woman, wished he wasn’t a prince with so much responsibility on his shoulders. It wouldn’t do to wish, however, especially for matters that would never come true anyway.

Iridian wanted to write Alianor a letter, but he knew he should rest. His duty to his father came first, before his own personal feelings.

He was about to head to bed when he heard something, a voice coming from the corner of his tent.

“Iridian,” the familiar voice said.

Iridian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. How could he have forgotten that he was haunted, haunted by his own brother, wracked with guilt over his own failures concerning him?

“What is it now, Viridian? I don’t have the time or energy to spend to deal with your petty insults,” he told the ghost, turning around to face the specter. Iridian found his brother with a look he hadn’t seen in a long time, looking vulnerable, eyes wide and shining with emotion.

“Viridian? What’s the matter? What troubles you?” he asked, forgetting all the anger and antagonism he felt for his brother dissipating, only concern remained. Iridian had forgotten what that felt like, forgotten how he once cared for his brother, looked out for him like an older brother should. So much had changed in so little time.

“I have a question for you if you have the time,” Viridian said, voice soft.

“Of course,” Iridian said at once, finding himself drawing close to the other man. “Of course, if it will ease your suffering, bring you peace, then I will answer any question you have for me.”

Viridian’s eyes widened at his words, like he hadn’t expected Iridian to agree so readily, so quickly and easily.

Iridian reached for his brother’s face, inches away from touching skin before remembering himself and drawing back. Viridian was dead, he reminded himself. He was long past Iridian’s grasp in more ways than one.

Viridian eyed him carefully, watching Iridian’s every move, an emotion flickering his eyes when Iridian drew back, flashing too quickly for Iridian to recognize what it was. Was he disappointed? Or relieved? Iridian couldn’t decide.

“If I hadn’t died, if you hadn’t killed me…”

Iridian winced, remembering how he was the one that pushed the sword through his brother’s chest. Viridian hadn’t died, but Iridian had meant to kill him, had effectively killed him no matter what happened after.

“…If you hadn’t killed me, what would you have done with me, honestly?” Viridian asked, eyeing Iridian carefully.

It was a terrible question, and a part of Iridian wondered if Viridian had asked it to deliberately torment him. Based on their previous interactions, Iridian would have thought it would be, but there was something, the look in his brother’s eyes that prevented Iridian from dismissing his brother’s request entirely.

“Would you have executed me for treason? Would you have convinced father to draw the blade upon my throat yourself? What would you have done, Iridian, to your only brother after he committed such a terrible deed?” Viridian asked. 

“Does it really matter?” Iridian found himself saying. “We are past that point, after all. You’re dead and I had a hand in it. Would pondering about alternative scenarios change anything?” Iridian asked.

At once, Iridian knew it was the wrong thing to say as he watched his brother’s face change, the vulnerable expression shuttering away as he grew angry, bitter, a scowl forming on his lips.

“Of course, you would say that, of course. Never mind what I ask you, what I request of you. It’s all pointless now, meaningless, silly,  _ stupid _ -“

Iridian raised his hands, trying to placate him. “Calm down. I’ll give you my answer, my honest answer. There’s no need to go into hysterics,” he told him, not unkindly, but it was unlikely that Viridian would notice, not when he was already upset.

Iridian sighed, hands dropped down to his sides. Iridian thought for a moment about his answer, wondering what the right thing to say would be. The truth? The truth was often unkind and cruel, and this truth was no different. Iridian thought about offering his brother a lie, giving him this one small comfort but he knew it wouldn’t do much good. Viridian was clever enough to recognize a lie when he heard one, and likely knew what Iridian’s answer would be anyway.

“I would have had a trial, of course. If you had been found guilty, you would have been executed for treason. If father was unable to execute you himself, I would have done it,” Iridian said, wishing he could say otherwise.

“Oh,” Viridian said, sounding almost disappointed.

“Were you truly expecting a different answer?” Iridian asked, puzzled by his brother’s reaction. They hadn’t been close for years, and Iridian had tried to kill him in the heat of the moment. Why would Viridian expect he wouldn’t go through with it at a different point in time.

“I was…” Viridian sighed, turning his back to his brother, facing the tent. “I’m not sure what I was expecting,” he admitted, the most honest answer Iridian had from him in a while.

Iridian frowned, feeling that there was something to it, something else that Viridian sought from him, but possibly couldn’t articulate it. “There’s something else you want to ask me. Go on. Ask it. You might as well while you have my attention,” Iridian encouraged him.

Viridian turned to look at him, brow furrowed in thought. “Was forgiveness never truly an option?” Viridian asked in a small voice.

Iridian’s eyes widened in surprise. He certainly hadn’t expected that question. “Are you admitting you were in the wrong?” he asked.

“No!” Viridian said quickly, angry once more. “I wasn’t wrong then or now. I’m just…” Viridian visibly deflated, looking small, almost like he had before he had gone to war all those years ago. Iridian resisted the urge to comfort him, hold him in his arms. The time where he was capable of doing that was long gone. “I just want to know if such a thing were possible, now or ever.”

Iridian thought about it, truly thought about it. Was he capable of forgiving his brother when he threatened their father? Threatened everything they had all worked hard for, all for his deluded ideals of a perfect world?

“No. I don’t think I would have forgiven you then,” Iridian said at last.

Viridian’s face fell before he quickly composed himself, the angry scowl returning to his face once more.

“But that was then,” Iridian added softly.

“And now?” Viridian asked, just the slightest bit of hope in his eyes.

“I’ve had time to think about what happened back then. I don’t regret my actions, but I do regret that I had to hurt you to stop you. You are my brother, after all, my one and only little brother. I remember when you were little, and we were closer than anyone else. You were practically attached to my leg back then,” Iridian said, chuckling at the thought. “I’ve thought about what happened since then, how we lost touch with each other. We were practically strangers when it came to the end. You were so angry,” Iridian recalled, frowning at the memory, “and determined, and I wondered what happened to make you so. I didn’t try to fix it, to convince you that there were other options. I didn’t think you would listen, and perhaps you wouldn’t have, so determined you were to bring about your grand destiny. There’s nothing I can do to change that now. I can’t bring you back from the dead or convince you otherwise. Instead, you’re here, haunting me, because of my guilt, because of your own anger and determination. I couldn’t do anything to help you back then, but I can now. I can try to bring you the peace you lacked in life.”

“And? What does that all mean?” Viridian asked, frowning, tapping his foot.

“It means,” Iridian said sternly, “that I’d be willing to try. I want to bring you peace, and if my forgiveness is what it’ll take, then I will try. It won’t be easy – you certainly won’t make it easy – but I’m willing to try no matter how long it takes for your sake and mine.”

“Why?” Viridian asked, looking crushed, his eyes shining brightly with emotion, looking like Iridian had said all the wrong things.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you. I owe it to you to try,” Iridian said simply, knowing his brother wouldn’t understand. Viridian had been alone for so many years and the love between them had been lost. Did Viridian even remember what it felt like to love and be loved? Iridian knew he was partly to blame for that. He should have made more of an effort to reach his brother. It was late and likely pointless now, but Iridian was willing to do what he should have done long ago.

“I see,” Viridian said, schooling his face back to a neutral expression.

“Does that answer your question?” Iridian asked.

Viridian nodded, looking Iridian straight in the eyes. “It does,” he said and vanished in a plume of smoke.

Iridian collapsed on his sleeping mat, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. Where had that come from, he wondered to himself. What brought on the strange questioning from his estranged brother? Had it all been a dream his exhausted brain had conjured up in the wake of his troubled guilt?

Perhaps Iridian would never know. He certainly didn’t have the time or energy to sort it all out. It would have to wait, just like so many things did. Perhaps sleep and morning would bring him answers, though Iridian knew that wouldn’t be the case. He went to sleep, wondering what his dreams would bring him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the book’s map to take note of the locations for everything in the story. In the show, there’s no water or river near the City of Dagonaut, while in the books, the Blue River runs through the city. The same goes for the City of Unauwen, where the show shows it being close to the coastline while in the books, its not that close to the coast and has a river running through it as well. I decided to use the book’s geographical features for Dagonaut because it was convenient for what I wanted Arman to do. 
> 
> I also wanted people to know that I don’t share Viridian’s assessment of Alianor. Based on his reactions to her (or lack thereof), I figured that Viridian has zero interest in her, dismissing her entirely almost right away upon meeting her, and probably thought she was boring and passive, someone who wasn’t worth his time or energy. Alianor really dodged a bullet there, lol. 
> 
> Honestly, all of Viridian's relationships with people (Jabroot, Alianor, even Iridian and Favian) are really interesting concepts. This boy has no normal HEALTHY relationships in his life. I'm kind of sad that none of these relationships are explored properly in the show and now that Viridian's dead, we'll never actually get to see them.


	9. What Must Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Knight has a word with Jussipo. Lavinia has doubts about what she has to do. Foldo and Viridian talk for the last time. Jabroot offers Lavinia and the group a helpful gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day late because my body hates me. Enjoy!

Jussipo had tried not to feel hurt by what the others were doing. He had agreed to it, after all, and had no business feeling left out. It was for the greater good, he reminded himself, turning to his task at hand. He had agreed to take care of the good knight, after all.

Jussipo leaned down to untie the knots Jaro had tied earlier, frowning when they seemed harder to untie than he would have thought.

“I’m terribly sorry about all this, Sir Edwinem. I’ll have you free in just a moment,” Jussipo assured the knight.

Sir Edwinem laughed, a hearty, pleasant sound. “It’s hardly the first time I’ve found myself in a situation like this, don’t you worry yourself over it,” the knight said amiably.

Jussipo gave up, going to his belt and drawing out a small dagger to cut through the rope. “There!” he said triumphantly. “Now you’re free!”

Sir Edwinem rose to his feet, rubbing at his wrists where the rope had burned him. “Where exactly are we?” the knight asked, taking stock of where they were.

Jussipo frowned. “Not sure exactly. Iona took us here when she wanted to talk to Tiuri and the others. It’s not anything important, I think,” Jussipo told him, remembering the shack. It had seen better days and looked abandoned for all Jussipo could tell.

Sir Edwinem turned his warm gaze on Jussipo, eyeing him curiously. Jussipo recalled how the knight had looked at him when they had first left Unauwen. He had wanted to ask why, and perhaps now was the best time to ask.

“You’ve died as well,” Sir Edwinem said gently, softly.

Jussipo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, I did. We’re both in the same situation so it seems, but you already knew that, didn’t you? How?” Jussipo asked.

The knight nodded, looking to the trees beyond the shack, a far away look on his face. “Call it intuition. I just knew. I felt it, deep in my bones, that you and I were alike in some way, shared some common experience. I hadn’t known what it was then, but now I do. I never imagined that we would have death in common, never hoped for it.” The knight turned to examine Jussipo, his eyes sad and sympathetic. “You are so young, after all.”

It was a pity, Jussipo realized then. The knight pitied him, and it stung far more than Jussipo would have thought it would. The others had never pitied him so the feeling was new to Jussipo. Even Iona didn’t pity him, acting against him in such a cold, calculated manner that had Jussipo questioning whether they were even friends at one point. Jaro did look at Jussipo strangely, but somehow Jussipo felt it wasn’t pity the man felt, but something else entirely. Pity though. Jussipo didn’t like that at all.

“You don’t think we’re going to make it through this to the end, do you?” Jussipo asked, getting right to the root of it.

Sir Edwinem said nothing at first, looking at Jussipo a long time before speaking. “You haven’t seen it, have you? Perhaps there is hope for you yet,” the knight said, mostly to himself.

Jussipo looked up at him, a puzzled look on his face. “Seen what?” he asked.

Sir Edwinem walked down the hill, turning back briefly to gesture for Jussipo to follow him. “We won’t go far and we won’t be gone long,” the knight assured him upon seeing Jussipo hesitate.

Jussipo turned back to look at the secluded space the others had gone to. They were still talking, faces serious and grim. Nearby, Jaro tended to the horses, feeding one of them a nice juicy apple, while Ardanwen put up a fuss. They all seemed too consumed in their own tasks to even notice that the knight and Jussipo had left. If it was only for a few minutes, then it would be alright. It wasn’t like Sir Edwinem couldn’t be trusted. He was the famous Black Knight with the White Shield, the best knight in all of Unauwuen. Surely such a knight would not lead Jussipo astray. With that thought in mind, Jussipo followed after the knight, down the hill and into the woods.

True to his word, they only walked for a few minutes before the knight stopped mid-step, his brows furrowed as he concentrated. “Do you hear that?” the knight asked.

Jussipo stopped to listen, looking around for the source of the sound the knight heard, but could hear nothing. He remained rooted to the spot, growing impatient when he could hear nothing no matter how hard he tried. Jussipo was about to tell the knight off for leading him on when he heard it: singing. It was faint at first, but now that Jussipo knew what it was he was looking for, it became clearer, louder and louder. He frowned, wondering who could be out here in the middle of nowhere, singing of all things.

“You hear it then?” the knight asked.

Jussipo only nodded, wondering what it meant. The knight didn’t seem surprised by it all, like he had expected it, known it was there. “You know what it is, don’t you?” Jussipo asked.

“Yes, but it will help you understand if you saw it for yourself. They shouldn’t be far from here,” Sir Edwinem explained, crouching on his feet and motioning for Jussipo to follow him.

Together they made it over to where a path spread out through the forest. Jussipo frowned at the sight of it. He hadn’t recalled there being any roads close to where they were, aside from the main road. On the road was a procession, people of all different backgrounds walking forward, women, children, knights, the elderly, all with the same goal in mind. They looked happy, at peace, laughing, playing, some were even singing a song that seemed familiar to Jussipo but he couldn’t recall exactly what it was.

It took Jussipo a moment to realize what they were.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” Jussipo asked, his stomach clenching uncomfortably. Dead like him.

“Yes,” the knight said solemnly, rising to his feet, a hand on Jussipo’s shoulder pulling him back, away from the familiar song.

Jussipo waited until he couldn’t hear the singing anymore to speak to the knight. “Why did you show me that? How did you know they would be there?” he asked, finding the sight unsettling.

“When I was in the castle, I was seeing shadows in the corner of my eye. Then came the visions and strange dreams. I thought I was imagining them at first, as no one saw them as I did, and I realized they were dead, spirits, impressions, visions, memories of those long since gone,” the knight explained.

Jussipo frowned. “I haven’t seen that yet, at least not before,” he said.

“Perhaps you are not as far gone as I am. Perhaps there is hope for you yet,” Sir Edwinem told him, perhaps seeing how troubled Jussipo was by the visions.

“You brought me here for a reason though. Tell me. I can handle it,” Jussipo assured him. Jussipo was a great many things, but he wasn’t a coward, and he wouldn’t back away from a task just because it frightened him. The knight had brought him there for a reason.

“We’re not exactly alive, the two of us, but caught in the middle. We feel things, pain, sorrow, and so we feel alive, but there will always be a pull to where we belong, where we need to go. It may be an eternal struggle you face until you die again. I felt it important to warn you of that, remind you that you may feel as if all is well and normal, but it’s not. You’ve faced something no one has ever done before and there may be consequences for that, something you’ll have to live with for the rest of your life,” the knight told him.

“I-I understand,” Jussipo said, and he truly did. Had it been too naïve to imagine that his life had returned to normal? There was always something, a price to anything that was too good to be true. Why would it be any different this time?

“Come. Let us rejoin your friends. I’m sure they have much to tell us,” the knight told him, pressing forward, his armored hand on Jussipo’s shoulder, urging him forward.

When they returned to the clearing, the sound of the singing faded until Jussipo could no longer hear it, making Jussipo wonder if he had heard it all.

The others returned to the center of the hill, Jaro bringing up the rear as they all gathered. Jussipo hurried to Foldo’s side, eager to learn what the others had discussed.

“Well?” he asked, “have you all discovered something exciting and new?” Jussipo turned to Foldo and Piak. The grim look on their faces said it all. “Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll think of something. Are we headed somewhere else now? Eviellan?”

Iona fixed Jussipo with an annoyed look, ignored him and walked over to tend to her horse.

“Was it something I said?” Jussipo asked no one in particular.

“We’re not supposed to tell you anything, remember, Jussipo?” Foldo reminded him kindly.

Oh. Right. Jussipo had forgotten about that. Jussipo supposed he would have to grow accustomed to that despite how much he hated it. He wanted to help and he could hardly help if he didn’t know what they were doing, or where they were going. They had all agreed though, Jussipo included, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Are we leaving right away?” Jussipo asked, feeling that it was a safe question.

“Unfortunately, yes, we’ve lost a day and a half already and we have to be moving,” Lavinia answered brusquely, walking past Jussipo in a huff.

Tiuri gave Jussipo an apologetic look. “Sorry. She’s just grumpy because she doesn’t want to leave. It has nothing to do with you. Honestly,” Tiuri assured him.

Jussipo nodded, managed to plaster on a smile. “Of course,” he said, even if it was difficult not to take it personally.

Jussipo looked up, finding Foldo had placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “He means that. Lavinia doesn’t agree with the plan, but we’ve all agreed we don’t have many options,” Foldo explained.

“Don’t worry, Jussipo-“ Piak started.

“Worry? Me? Ridiculous. I’m not worried,” Jussipo assured his brother, ruffling his hair.

Piak protested angrily, slapping Jussipo’s hand. “Stop that! I’m not a little boy anymore,” Piak reminded him. “I’m a knight now.”

“Yes, but you’ll always be my little brother no matter how much time passes,” Jussipo said in turn.

Piak rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Brothers,” he said, sounding entirely put out.

Jussipo laughed, feeling so much better already, the memory of ghosts and the feeling of being left behind already forgotten.

“Why don’t go get our horses ready, Piak?” Jussipo suggested.

Piak glanced back at him, a suspicious glint in his eye as he looked back and forth between Jussipo and Foldo. “You’re going to do something mushy, aren’t you?” he asked, a look of disgust already forming on his young face.

Jussipo laughed again. “Maybe. I promise we won’t be long,” Jussipo assured him.

Piak turned to Foldo instead. “Promise?” he asked.

Foldo nodded. “I promise,” Foldo assured him.

“Good,” Piak said, eyeing them warily once before walking over to the horses.

“I can’t believe he trusts you more than he trusts me! I’m his brother, flesh and blood!” Jussipo exclaimed, half-amused, half-insulted.

Foldo shrugged, smiling that warm smile of his, the one that never failed to put Jussipo at ease. “Well, he knows I won’t try to lie to him, at least not too much.”

Jussipo shook his head, a fond look on his face. He missed them. It had only been a few moments but Jussipo had managed to miss them both. He didn’t want to miss out on their lives.

“You wanted to speak to me about something?” Foldo asked gently.

“Can’t I kiss you instead?” Jussipo asked, suddenly wanting to avoid talking altogether.

Foldo sighed, a fond look on his face. “Jussipo.”

“Did you tell the others about the bird?” Jussipo asked suddenly, remembering the deal Foldo had made with the man.

Foldo looked away, his cheeks turning red.

“There’ll be a right time for it. I’m sure the others won’t be angry,” Jussipo assured him.

“Thanks….” Foldo hesitated. “Is that really what you wanted to talk about?” Foldo asked him.

It wasn’t, but Jussipo wasn’t ready for that talk, neither was Foldo for that matter. Would Foldo even hear him out? Let him say his goodbyes? Piak was likely a lost cause, but Foldo was always the more reasonable of the two. Perhaps he could see why Jussipo had to say goodbye, especially now when his position in life was precarious at best.

“I talked with Sir Edwinem and he seems to think we won’t survive the darkness,” Jussipo said, looking down at his feet. He reminded himself to be strong, forced himself to look Foldo in the eye. “I just wanted to let you know that I-“

“We should go,” Foldo said quickly, turning away, already walking down to where the others were gathered by the horses.

Jussipo sighed. No one could say he hadn’t tried.

When Jussipo had reached the others, most of them were done packing up their belongings, almost ready to go.

Sir Edwinem joined them, prompting Ardanwen to let out a joyous neigh upon seeing his old master. The knight’s eyes lit up in recognition, a warm smile on his face as he began to stroke his mane. “I know you all have your quest before you. I was wondering if I may be able to join you. I wish to help in any way I can,” the knight offered.

They all turned to Tiuri for answers, but it was Iona who spoke up. “Why not? We already made one colossal mistake. Let’s make two of them, just to make it even,” she said sardonically.

The knight nodded, an amused smile on his smile. “I understand, but I would like to accompany you all the same. I’ve travelled across Unauwen, Dagonaut and Eviellan countless times. I have some old allies I can call upon if need be,” the knight said, turning over to look at Jussipo as he spoke.

“You have to admit that can be useful,” Foldo pointed out.

Iona rolled her eyes, pulling herself over her stirrup and riding off in lieu of answering.

Tiuri sighed as he looked at the retreating image of Iona. He turned to address the knight. “I don’t see the harm in it if we’re all careful. Of course, you may accompany us, Sir Edwinem. We’d be more than happy to have you join us,” Tiuri said diplomatically, an amiable smile on his face.

“My thanks, Sir Tiuri. I say if this knighthood doesn’t work out for you, you might make a good diplomat,” Sir Edwinem remarked.

Tiuri frowned, brows furrowing in thought. “I have to admit, Sir Edwinem, that I haven’t given the profession much thought, but I do like being a knight. I think it rather suits me at the moment. But I will take your advice under consideration in future, if I ever do decide to change professions,” Tiuri told him.

“Well said, Sir Tiuri, well put,” the knight said.

They all mounted their horses, following Tiuri’s lead, who had to urge Ardanwen on to catch up to Iona. The knight hung back, riding close to Jussipo’s side, watching him carefully. Jussipo thought back to the forest and what the knight had told him. It had frightened him then, but with the way the knight was hovering, perhaps that hadn’t been his intent. He was worried about him, Jussipo realized suddenly. He wanted to look out for Jussipo, like he was someone important, someone worth saving, something precious. Jussipo was accustomed to that kind of behavior from Foldo and Piak, who had no trouble speaking their mind on how they thought the world of Jussipo. He wasn’t used to that from a noble knight, practically a stranger. Jussipo wasn’t sure what prompted the knight to act in such a way, but then he remembered his words from before.

_ You’re so young, after all. _

Could that be the reason behind the knight’s behavior? Regardless of the reason, Jussipo felt honored to be found worthy of the attention.

Jussipo and the knight shared a look, one Jussipo didn’t need words. He had friends, people who cared about him, and he would have a wonderful life if he managed to survive whatever came next. But if he died again, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. He would have helped his friends, spent time with his loved ones. If he died…he wouldn’t be alone.

*

They came up to Mistrinaut far too early for Lavinia’s liking. It wasn’t that Lavinia hated Mistrinaut. It was her home and her goal when she had met Tiuri had been to find a way to make it more prosperous instead of constantly short on money. It hadn’t really been about finding her mother, like Tiuri thought. At all. Lavinia wasn’t sure where Tiuri had gotten that idea from. He could be so silly at times.

No, Lavinia wasn’t avoiding Mistrinaut because she despised it or anything, but because she knew what awaited her there, knew the type of trouble her father would get to in her absence. Lavinia knew she shouldn’t have left him to his own devices for so long, but Lavinia had bigger problems to solve. Surely her father couldn’t get into too much trouble in such a short amount of time.

Apparently, that wasn’t the case as it turned out. Even before arriving at Mistrinaut, Lavinia could already see it, almost sensing the trouble that was brewing. A crowd of people had gathered outside the city, well within view before they even made it into the city proper.

“I thought Mistrinaut was a hole in the wall?” Iona asked with a frown.

“It is-  _ was _ . Perhaps that’s changed since we’ve been here last,” the Red Rider answered.

Lavinia clenched her fists, wringing her reins instead. Tiuri, of course, noticed immediately. “Are you alright, Lavinia?”

“Fine,” she spat out. “Perfectly fine.”

“I’m sure your father’s alright,” Foldo assured her, coming to the wrong conclusion of the source of Lavinia’s troubles.

“Oh, I’m sure my father’s fine. He better be,” Lavinia said through gritted teeth.

“Do we really have to wait in line to enter? It’s going to take forever at this rate,” Piak complained.

“Are you not the mayor’s daughter?” Jussipo asked. “I’m sure they’ll let us through once they see who it is,” Jussipo suggested.

“It would be rude to cut in line,” Foldo said, frowning.

Iona rolled her eyes. “As if we don’t have more important things to do than wait in line all day. The darkness isn’t going to wait for us,” Iona argued, urging her horse forward, cutting through the crowd without a care for those waiting. The crowd parted, some jumping out of the way as Iona passed through.

“Was she always this much trouble?” Piak asked, as they all looked at Iona’s retreating figure.

The Red Rider scoffed. “She’s that and more. Come on. If she gets into trouble, we’ll never hear the end of it,” he said, urging his horse forward.

Tiuri reluctantly strode on after him with Lavinia following at his heels. Despite her curt manner, Lavinia had to admit the young woman had a point. They certainly didn’t have time to waste, even if it meant Lavinia had to come closer to confronting what she knew would be an unpleasant experience. She wasn’t wrong.

They all stopped just outside the city borders. From there they could clearly see the large banners decorated the walls, placed high on every building, easy to see even from a distance. The banners welcomed all visitors to Mistrinaut, the home of Lady Lavinia, the White Mage of the North, like in the prophecy Tiuri had told them about in the book in Sir Edwinem’s house.

Lavinia could feel all her friends turning to stare at her. “Don’t,” she warned them, her tone brokering no argument. 

“Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe it’s just signs,” Jussipo said.

The rest, wisely, remained silent, and together they made their way to the city. 

It was actually worse, and it wasn’t just banners, like Jussipo had said. When they entered the city, stands and booths littered the pathways, crawling with travelers and merchants of all kinds. The wares all seemed to have one common theme, Lavinia herself and her magical properties. Dolls, trinkets, magic potions, all centered on Lavinia. Lavinia wished the ground would devour her whole.

“Lavinia, we should see your father. He might have something to tell us,” Tiuri said, bringing Ardanwen forward to block Lavinia’s sight of the stands.

Right. They were here for a reason, and it certainly wasn’t to go shopping.

“Tiuri, I…” Lavinia started, biting her lip, finding the words difficult to grasp, let alone say.

Tiuri nodded, somehow knowing at once what she wanted. It was one of the reasons she liked him so much. Tiuri always freely muttered about being fortunate to have someone like Lavinia in his life, but really, it was the other way around. Lavinia was the one who was lucky. Tiuri was…Tiuri was something else entirely, and Lavinia wasn’t entirely sure she deserved him, someone as good as him, but she would keep him regardless, too selfish to let anyone else have him.

Tiuri dismounted and walked over to help Lavinia dismounted. She could dismount on her own, but Tiuri always liked going through with courtly gestures, noble and useless as they were. It was endearing even if somewhat unnecessary. Lavinia was no lady, after all.

Once he helped her, Tiuri turned to his friends – their friends and cleared his throat. “Why don’t you explore the city for a bit? Lavinia and I will talk to her father on our own,” Tiuri suggested.

“And go where exactly? There’s nothing to do in this place,” Iona asked.

Piak pointed to one of the signs. “How about we go to ‘Lavinia’s favorite tavern,’” Piak suggested.

“That’s just the White Hart, and we’ve been there before, remember? We started a fight,” Iona reminded him.

“You did what?” Tiuri asked.

“Oh, look, we should be going. Have fun with everything, Tiuri,” Jussipo said quickly, pulling on his brother’s reins and riding off before Tiuri could say anything.

Tiuri sighed as he pulled on Ardanwen’s reins, walking him and Lavinia’s horse over to the inn’s stables. Lavinia pulled on his arm, guiding him to the castle’s stables.

“The others are likely to be full because of all the travelers. We never had any horses. It was why I had to borrow yours, remember?” Lavinia reminded him. “It should be empty.”

Together they walked to the castle stables only to find them mostly full. Lavinia frowned, but decided not to dwell on the matter, focusing on making sure Ardanwen and her horse were comfortable.

“You ready?” Tiuri asked once she’d finished patting Ardanwen down.

“No,” Lavinia admitted, “but there’s no time to waste on loitering.”

Tiuri offered Lavinia his arm, so much like a lord. Lavinia had never once imagined she would ever be on the receiving end of such gestures, and yet, here she was, a young knight offering Lavinia, of all people, his arm. The thought was enough to distract her from the growing anxiety in her belly.

Lavinia desperately wished for the fury from before, even the embarrassment. It was easier to deal with than the fear was. She tried not to stare at her hands, tried to let Tiuri know anything was wrong. He was naïve, but he wasn’t a fool, not completely anyway. He was observant when it mattered, and he would know something was wrong if Lavinia fretted. So Lavinia tried to bring back the anger, the fury, remembering the silly banners on the buildings and wares in the impromptu market.

Tiuri led Lavinia out of the stables, up the steps where another line awaited them to enter the building.

“Are you sure he would be here?” Tiuri asked, eyeing the long line before them.

Lavinia nodded. “He rarely ventures out of there, not unless he has to. This many people in the city? He knows about them, likely planned it all,” Lavinia muttered to herself, feeling the anger return. That was good. She needed to hold on to that feeling.

“Iona did have a point about time. Perhaps they’ll let us through if they know it’s you,” Tiuri suggested, avoiding her gaze.

Lavinia loathed to admit it, but Tiuri was right. She took a deep breath, and pushed through the crowd, ignoring the yelps and angry shouts they earned as they made it through the front of the line. Two guards – that took Lavinia back. When had there ever been guards at her home? Two guards flocked the front steps, blocking their path. Lavinia pulled Tiuri away.

“Come on, I know another way in,” she told him, pushing her way back through the crowd until they made it out of the line. Lavinia led Tiuri down a back alley until they reached the back of the building, where there was a wooden door, obscured in the shadows, almost completely out of sight. Lavinia pulled on the iron handle and frowned when she found it locked. She tugged and tugged again to no avail.

“What’s wrong?” Tiuri asked when he noticed her struggle.

“The door won’t budge,” Lavinia said between pulls.

“Perhaps it’s locked,” Tiuri said.

Lavinia turned on him. “I know it’s locked. I know what a locked door is, Tiuri. It’s just this door is never locked,” she explained, frowning as she took a step back, tilting her head to the side. The door looked different as well, almost like it had repaired while she was gone.

Undeterred by the lock, Lavinia started pounding on the door.

“Open up!” she yelled as her fists knocked on the door.

“Lavinia!” Tiuri whispered, glancing back and forth at their surroundings. “Someone’s going to hear us.”

“Let them. I don’t care,” she told him, turning her attention back to the door, which she continued to pound on it. “Let. Me. Through!”

The door swung open suddenly, Lavinia stumbling forward, almost crashing into the person inside.

“What is the meaning of this- oh, it’s her. I mean, it’s you” the man said, looking down at Lavinia, recognizing her almost at once. “Lady Lavinia, you have returned early. We hadn’t received word of your return otherwise we would have made preparations.”

Lavinia drew back, squinting, trying to place where she had seen the man. She hadn’t. “And who are you to scold me? Let me through at once. My father will want to see me at once,” she told him, pushing past the man before he could say anything.

Tiuri followed at her heels, apologizing to the man before rushing to catch up to Lavinia.

Lavinia clenched her fists, making her way to the room she knew where her father would be. The dining hall was a little different than Lavinia had seen it last. Some of the portraits and tapestries remained, along with her father’s chair, but there was a sudden accumulation of what Lavinia could only describe as items belonging in a chamber pot.

Seated in his chair, grand and regal, was her father, who sat opposite a woman, who was listening intently to every word the man said, almost like he was filling her in to the greatest secrets of death itself.

Lavinia cleared her throat to make her presence known. “Father, I would like to have word with you if you have the time,” she said loudly.

Her father, the Mayor of Mistrinaut, pulled away from the woman before him, his eyes widening in surprise, an array of different emotions flashing through his eyes ranging from joy to fear. Oh, he knew he had it coming. That was good. It would save Lavinia some time.

The woman sitting across the Mayor drew back, gasping at the sight of Lavinia, as if her presence was a miracle onto itself. “Lady Lavinia! It is you, isn’t it? There’s so much I wish to speak to you about, if you have the time.”

Before Lavinia could say anything, her father cut in.

“I’m afraid Lady Lavinia has had a long journey. She needs to rest before she could speak to anyone. I’m sure you understand. Lavinia’s wondrous powers work best when she’s hearty and well-rested. It’s best that we leave her to it. I’ll walk you out,” her father said quickly, taking the stranger’s hand in his own as the two walked to the door.

The mayor waited until the woman was well on her way before he turned to face them, a broad smile on his face, his arms outstretched as he made to embrace Lavinia in his arms. “Snowdrop, you’re here! What a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t sure when you were coming back, as you never say – but you also didn’t tell me you were leaving so perhaps neither of us are to blame here. You should have sent a message though. I could have had a grand banquet to welcome our conquering hero home,” he exclaimed eagerly.

Lavinia gritted her teeth, taking a step back from her father. “A message, Father? You mean so you could hide what you’ve been up to like a thief in the night. Father, what have you done?” she asked as calmly as she could, a battle she was struggling with.

“Oh, you mean all this? It’s nothing, Lavinia, really,” her father told her casually, blocking a gaudy figurine made out in Lavinia’s likeness.

“Nothing? Really?” Lavinia asked again, fixing her father with a scathing look. Her father smiled, warm and amiable, seemingly unperturbed by Lavinia’s glare. Lavinia wasn’t fooled by it though. She knew all his tricks, and knew exactly that he was using the friendly smile he always used to try to set even the most irritable of men at ease. It wouldn’t work on her though.

“Should I leave the two of you alone?” Tiuri asked nervously, eyeing them both.

“Might be for the best, lad. Tell you what, why don’t you go find us something to eat for supper? I’m sure Cook will be amenable to your suggestion. Off you go, lad,” the mayor suggested with an easy smile.

“He’s not a lad. He’s a knight,” Lavinia corrected angrily.

“Ah, yes, Sir…” The man trailed off.

“Tiuri. Sir Tiuri, son of Sir Tiuri the Valiant. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Lavinia’s told me so much about you,” Tiuri told him.

Her father’s eyes widened in surprise. “Truly? Good things, I hope. I’d give you my name but I’m afraid it’s rather long and rather hard to pronounce. You can call me the Mayor. Everyone else does,” the mayor offered, extending his hand toward Tiuri.

Tiuri took the hand in his own and shook it, a warm smile on his face. “Of course, well, it’s very nice to meet you. I’ll give you both some time to talk. I’m sure there’s a lot you’ll want to talk about,” Tiuri said, looking to Lavinia for guidance.

He was waiting for her to say something, Lavinia realized, to stop him or encourage him to leave. Lavinia thought about what she needed to speak to her father about, her mother, her powers, possibly her own failings, something that would prove difficult with Tiuri hovering nearby, especially with...

“We’ll be fine on our own,” Lavinia told him. “I’ll be sure to find you once we’re finished.”

Tiuri nodded, walking away towards the room they had come in through. 

Lavinia’s father eyed Tiuri carefully as he left. “He’s not bad looking,” her father remarked casually. “Looks like he has some money, at least. He has his own estate, if I recall correctly. He did have that bounty on him though, but I’m sure that’s all been squared away by now. We should check just to be sure. We certainly wouldn’t want to come back and bite us in the arse one day. Otherwise, I think he’ll make a fine suitor for you, Snowdrop.”

“Father!” Lavinia exclaimed.

Her father sighed. “I know. I know. This isn’t about him, but before you go raging, let me explain,” he pleaded, hands held up in a placating gesture. “King Favian gave us that reward and it was a good amount to be sure, but I thought about what we could to try to capitalize on everything that happened, but how? Rumors started spreading about some prophecy – I mean, who knew? And that got me thinking that people would love to have some small piece of magic with them, so I just went for it. It started out small, just trinkets and such and it just escalated. Now, I know it’s gone a little too far, but it’s really not hurting anyone. But go on then. Give it to me. I know you’ve been waiting for it,” he said, visibly steeling himself for what he knew would be a scathing telling off.

It was all so familiar, almost like a scene from a year ago before anything had happened, before anything had changed. Lavinia had missed this, missed her father, his crazy antics, his mischievous nature. Perhaps that smile really did work on her so far. Lavinia threw her arms around her father, feeling tears forming in her eyes.

“Snowdrop? Whatever is the matter? Is it dolls? They’re really not that bad,” her father assured her, patting Lavinia on the back.

“It’s not the dolls,” Lavinia said, pulling away with a sniff. “It’s just this – all of this. I’ve missed it. Missed you.”

Her father that disarming smile again. “Oh, Snowdrop, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere. Now, tell me, what is this really about? Is it about the boy? He doesn’t look all that bright, if you ask me, but I’m sure we can teach him a lesson or two if that’s what you’re worried about,” he told her.

Lavinia shook her head. “It’s not about Tiuri. It’s about,” she gestured to all the Lavinia themed objects, i herself face to face with a Lavinia doll. “- All this. I’m not some great hero or the part of some prophecy no matter what’s happened. I’m just me – just Lavinia. I don’t think I can do what everyone expects from me, and this,” she shoved the doll away, “isn’t helping any.” She turned away, looking despondently at her feet.

Her father frowned, placing an arm around her shoulder. “No one’s expecting anything more from you than what you can give them. Tell me what this is really about,” he said, bringing her to sit by the bench by the wall.

Lavinia sighed, trying to avoid her father’s look, but found everything in the room to be covered in some image of her face. She fiddled with the threads on her dress instead. “There’s a darkness that’s coming, Father, and I’m the only one that can stop it.”

Her father graced her with a proud smile. “Well, that’s easy, Snowdrop. You can do it. You did it before and you can do it again,” he assured her, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Lavinia forced a smile on her face. “I know. Everyone believes in me. I just wish…it’s all just too much. Everyone expects so much from me, and I’m the only one who can do it, who can stop the darkness. If I fail, then we won’t stand a chance. We’d all be doomed, and it’d all be my fault, and everyone would know it was me that failed,” Lavinia admitted.

It had been so easy before, when they all thought Tiuri had been the one with the powers. They all looked to him, all the pressure was on him, and Tiuri – Tiuri, despite everything, was strong, stronger than Lavinia ever was. He had an indomitable spirit that refused to give up, refused to quit even when he had no one helping, no friends or allies, even when the Red Riders were chasing him, even when Lord Fantumar had killed his father and burned down his home. Tiuri preserved through it all. Lavinia though – Lavinia had run away when everyone knew she had powers, because it had all been too much, all for a battle that hadn’t been hers. If it hadn’t been for Tiuri, she never would have gone through with it, and would have left Unauwen to be consumed by darkness. Tiuri had been the noble one, the selfless one, and Lavinia preferred it that way. But now? Now everyone knew what Lavinia could do, and they expected her to solve everything, be the hero she knew she wasn’t. She hated it all: the responsibility, the way everyone looked at her, the attention. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was, before her powers manifested, before anyone knew anything about her, back when she was just a normal young woman helping a naïve young man deliver a letter to a king. But she couldn’t go back, not even if she wanted to, didn’t know how, didn’t know how to fix anything.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed sadly.

Her father scoffed, a twinkle in his eye. “Snowdrop, none of us know what we’re doing. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and I’m a bloody adult. Life is all about making everything up as you go along. Just trust your instincts, trust your gut. They’ll never lead you astray,” he told her.

“But I don’t want to!” Lavinia exclaimed, rising to her feet. “I don’t want any of it! The responsibility, the attention! None of it.” And then more softly, she added, “I don’t want the powers either, but maybe…”

She turned, returned to her seat next to her father, and placed a hand on her father’s arm. “You must promise me that you will keep what I tell you a secret, Father,” she told her.

Her father nodded. “Of course, anything you want, Snowdrop. It’ll never leave my lips…not unless we could make something out of it-Ow!” he exclaimed when Lavinia punched his shoulder. “I joke. I joke. Well, mostly –

Lavinia returned to fiddling with her dress, unable to look her father in the eye. “The truth is that I’ve been feeling weaker-“

Her father’s expression darkened suddenly, filled with worry. “Weaker? Are you feeling alright, Lavinia? Perhaps you should rest after all-“

“No! Not like that! I meant,” she sighed. “my powers. I feel my powers weakening every time I use them. I didn’t notice it at first, but now? I used it to stop a knight and I could my powers draining the longer I used them. I think I’m losing my powers. If I don’t stop the darkness soon, I may not get another chance to do so.”

Her father frowned. “That is indeed troubling, and your friends don’t know, do they?” he asked.

Lavinia shook her head. “No, they don’t know. I’ll have to tell them eventually, but I’ve been afraid of telling them, telling Tiuri. They already expect so much. It won’t help matters for them to know,” she admitted. She turned to him, suddenly remembering why they’d come there. “Do you know anything about my powers? Where did they come from? Did they come from you?” she asked.

Her father laughed, loudly. “Oh no, Snowdrop, no. I’m afraid the Rafox family has not an ounce of magic within it,” he informed her.

Lavinia frowned, rising to her feet again and walking over the tapestry that hung on the back wall, behind her father’s chair. “What about this?” she asked, pointing to it. The tapestry had been there for as long as Lavinia had been alive, vibrant and colourful, magical almost, depicted a scene of soldiers with winged helmets fighting a dragon-like figure with numerous heads.

Her father joined her, frowning. “That? That came with the castle, I think. I haven’t the foggiest idea of what it’s about,” he told her.

Lavinia bit her lip. She had been afraid of that. She had hoped her father had been the one with the strange powers, otherwise that would just leave…her mother.

“And mother?” Lavinia asked, pulling out the locket, holding it in the palm of her hand.

Her father let out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid you know the answer to that,” he said sadly.

Lavinia walked back to the bench, let herself collapse on it. “So that means we came all this way for nothing,” she said to herself.

“Surely not for nothing? You got to see your old father again! Isn’t that a treat in and of itself?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

“It would be if my dearest father hadn’t peddled wares with his daughter’s face on it,” she said coldly. Lavinia stuck out her tongue at him, scowling, trying her hardest not to laugh, but failing, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

“You’re not still angry about that, are you? Think of all the money we’re making! All because of you! You love money!” Her father argued.

Lavinia shrugged. She had to admit that he had a point there. “I suppose it’s fine…for now. If it’s not gone in a month’s time, I’ll throw it all in a rubbish bin myself,” she told him sternly.

Her father placed his hand over his heart. “Of course, dearest. I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a wink. Lavinia knew what that meant. “You’ll be fine. You have me and your friends, of course. We’ll all help you in whatever way we can. You won’t be alone, Snowdrop, and no matter what happens, I’ll always be proud of you. Of course, if you do manage to fail, we’ll have to change our names, give ourselves funny haircuts- Ow!” he exclaimed as she thumped him on the arm again. It wasn’t anything different than what her friends had been saying, but she hadn’t heard it in a while, and she desperately needed to hear it. It helped.

A familiar cough drew her attention away from her father.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Tiuri asked, standing in the doorway, ready to move back in a moment’s notice.

Lavinia turned back to her father, who smiled that roguish smile of his. She hadn’t gotten the answers she wanted, but part of her knew that already, knew she wouldn’t find answers in Mistrinaut. After all, it was why she had set off in Dangria in the first place, to find the answers she always wanted about her mother, who she was and where she came from. Despite that, she felt better about everything. Yes, nothing had changed, and the same problems that plagued her before remained, but somehow, perhaps because of where she was, perhaps because of her father’s presence, it didn’t seem so daunting now, not like it had been before. She was safe here, nothing could hurt her here, not while she was home. She had her friends, and they would help her. Perhaps her father could help as well.

“No, you’re not. We’re finished here,” Lavinia said at last.

“Good. I’m glad you two talked. It seemed like you needed it,” Tiuri said, a knowing look in his eye.

Lavinia frowned, wondering exactly what it was that Tiuri knew.

For a moment, Lavinia wanted to stay in the moment while she still felt safe and sound, but she knew they had a quest to complete. They had set out here for a reason.

“We should probably look for the others. We have a…difficult discussion ahead of us,” Lavinia said.

“I’m sure they won’t be too hard to find,” Tiuri said.

“I’m trusting you to keep them well-behaved. If anyone says anything about you-know-what, I won’t hesitate to strange them,” Lavinia warned him.

Tiuri laughed, leaving Lavinia with a warm feeling in her stomach. “I’ll be sure to do that. I can’t make any promises though. We have a rambunctious group we call friends,” he said in turn.

“Oh, I know,” Lavinia said with a smile.

“I hope talking to your father helped bring you some perspective, or at least given us a lead. We seem to be short of those lately,” Tiuri said solemnly.

For once, Lavinia knew exactly what to do and where to go. Deep down she had always known where to go to seek answers, but she had avoided it, hoping another path presented itself. Perhaps that was foolish of her. She couldn’t hide from her destiny, from the truth.

“Dangria. We need to go to Dangria,” Lavinia said to him.

Tiuri’s eyes widened. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, likely knowing how difficult it was for Lavinia.

Lavinia nodded. “It’s time. It has been for a while. I just didn’t want to admit it. But you’re here with me, and I have our friends, and together, we’ll figure something out. We always do,” Lavinia told him.

Tiuri looked taken aback, before a warm smile graced his features. “Are you really Lavinia and not some shadow dopper? That sounds remarkably similar to what I would say,” Tiuri asked, pretending to be suspicious but unable to hide the smile on his face.

Lavinia hit him lightly on the arm. “Perhaps I picked up a few things from you. I wished you had picked up some things from me, but apparently you’re a slow learner,” Lavinia teased.

Tiuri laughed. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here to teach me,” Tiuri said lightly. 

Lavinia smiled back at him, feeling hopeful for once.

They hadn’t solved everything, and nothing had changed, not really, but perhaps that hadn’t been what Lavinia needed. Perhaps just airing out her fears and feelings was all she needed to bring her confidence back. She wasn’t a timid, frightened little girl. She was Lavinia, defeater of darkness, savior of Unauwen and Dagonaut alike, the White Mage of the North like the figurines her father had been selling said. Perhaps it was something to be proud of. Whatever came her way, Lavinia would face it head on.

*

Foldo hadn’t thought there would be any dreams anymore, but he found himself in the familiar darkness again, wondering what the prince had to say to him this time.

The prince had his back to him, and began pacing shortly.

Foldo was hesitant to ask the prince anything, feeling it really wasn’t his place. That wasn’t what the prince had agreed to. Foldo was supposed to listen and advise if needed, otherwise, Foldo should remain quiet, silent, patiently wait for the prince to do what he needed to do.

“You were right…about some matters,” the prince said at last, his back still to Foldo.

Foldo frowned. They had talked about a great deal of matters. He wasn’t sure which one the prince was referring to.

“He said he would forgive me. He said he would try,” the prince told him unheeded.

“The king?” Foldo asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“No!” The prince shouted angrily, his shoulders tense, hands clenched into fists. “Not him,” the prince explained through gritted teeth.

“Your brother?” Foldo asked.

“Yes, my brother. I asked him if he could ever forgive me for everything I’ve done, and he said he couldn’t, but he would try,” the prince explained.

“He loves you,” Foldo told him.

The prince turned, facing Foldo, a scowl on his face, his brows furrowed in fury. “Do not presume to know me, know my family, and do not interrupt me,” the prince said harshly.

Foldo nodded, trying not to take the words personally. Prince Viridian was a complicated man. Foldo had hardly done anything to anger him, he reminded himself. Foldo was not the source of the man’s anger and frustration, but merely the outlet in which the prince needed to voice his frustrations. It had nothing to do with Foldo himself, something he needed to keep in mind. Foldo would need patience and understanding to deal with the prince.

“I’m terribly sorry, Your Highness. I forget myself. Of course, continue,” Foldo said quickly.

The prince eyed him carefully, eyes narrowing in suspicion, examining his face for any tells like he thought Foldo was mocking him. Foldo tried to smile as warmly as he could to assure the prince he meant what he said. The prince nodded when he was convinced Foldo wasn’t trying anything.

“As I was saying, I am not sure it is love he feels for me. Guilt is likely, but not love, not for me. Love between was lost long ago,” the prince explained, voice growing soft, expression open and vulnerable, eyes shining with emotion.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Foldo assured him. “If he loved you once, then that love must still be there. Love doesn’t vanish so easily,” he reminded him.

The prince frowned. “But it does fade over time. Time destroys everything, and the time we’ve spent apart has eroded whatever love he had for me,” the prince answered.

Foldo frowned, wondering what the right words to say were. Talking to the prince was unlike everything Foldo had really done. Foldo’s friends were all open and honest about their thoughts and emotions. It was never difficult to ascertain what his friends thought at any given moment. The prince, however, was quiet, pensive, and moody, reminding Foldo of a cat. He was a knot Foldo had to untangle in order to get to the truth of what he wanted from him, of what he wanted Foldo to say. Perhaps even Viridian himself didn’t know what he wanted, only adding to the puzzle that was Prince Viridian.

“Is that what you want? Do you want your brother to love you as he once did?” Foldo asked, feeling bolder than he had been. He knew it was a question the prince wouldn’t like, but it got down to the core of what he knew Viridian was struggling with.

The prince scowled again before he schooled his expression into a more neutral one, giving away nothing. “It’s unimportant, hardly matters now with everything I have to do. I have much more important duties before me,” the prince told him.

“But you want it, regardless, don’t you? If that’s what you want, then it makes it important,” Foldo said softly.

The prince scoffed. “My brother’s love won’t change anything. I have a destiny to fulfill, a world to change. I will accomplish nothing chasing after my brother’s affections. I’ve spent years without love from anyone. I lost their love long again. I have my mission and that’s enough for me, enough to sustain me. I need nothing else,” the prince said.

“It’s just when you lose things when you realize that they mattered, that you wanted them. You lost your brother’s love, but you want it now that’s gone, isn’t it?” Foldo asked.

The prince’s eyes narrowed once more, scrutinizing Foldo again. “What are you getting at? Say what you really mean. Don’t dance around it,” the prince told him. Foldo almost laughed. Figures the prince would ask Foldo to be direct when the prince himself would dance around what he wanted. Foldo knew this was his chance, perhaps his only chance to change things for the better. He had to make sure he didn’t say the wrong thing, didn’t push too hard too soon.

“What do you really want in life? Truly want? Don’t speak of destiny. Your destiny isn’t who you are, and it doesn’t have to define or consume your life. You have your own wants and desires. What are they?” Foldo asked.

The prince looked taken back, shocked, like he had never given the matter much thought, Foldo suspected.

“I-I have my destiny. I have to save the world, change it, make it better so no one suffers again!“ the prince exclaimed.

“I didn’t ask about your destiny. I asked about you, not the prince, but you, Viridian, the man,” Foldo told him sternly.

The prince frowned, a troubled look forming on his face. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted, eyes wide.

“I think I do, at least a little. I think Viridian, the man, wants to be a part of something. Perhaps that was why you sought out your destiny, threw yourself at it, because you believed it was yours. You had nothing and were all alone in the world. You were a prince, yes, but that meant nothing to you. Your family had abandoned you to a war started long ago. All you had was the war, and seeking out your destiny was a means of filling that emptiness inside of you-“

“Stop,” the prince said softly.

Foldo carried on, knowing it would be the only thing he would ever get to say and if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to carry on.

“-it didn’t matter if you had nothing, because you had this, and that gave you a sense of purpose, gave your life meaning when it had none. War is senseless, after all, and if all that pain and suffering led you to a path that made it all worth, you took it without thinking-“

“Stop it,” the prince said again, gritting his teeth.

Foldo spoke faster now, sensing the prince’s –  _ Viridian’s _ patience coming to a potentially violent end.

“But that wasn’t what you really wanted. All Viridian, the man, wants what he had lost: his family, a place to belong, somewhere where his life made sense and had meaning. That’s what you really want, and that’s why it still matters if your brother forgives you because, even if you lost his love, he still matters to you. You still love him-“

“I told you to stop!”

“That’s what you really want! Love and understanding. You can have all that! You still can! You haven’t gone too far! You can still go back, redeem yourself. You can do all you ever wanted. It won’t be easy, but I can help you, if you’ll let me,” Foldo told him, softly.

“Are you finished?” Viridian asked, arms crossed against his chest, the fury plain on his face.

“No,” Foldo admitted.

“Good, because it’s my turn to talk and your turn to listen,” Viridian told him, pointing a finger at him.

“I don’t need redemption because I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m going to fix everything that’s wrong with this terrible world, regardless of whether they agree or not. Even you can admit that I’ve made things better. You wouldn’t have your precious Jussipo if it hadn’t been for me. Did you ever think about that?” Viridian pointed out.

Foldo sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “You brought him back only so you could use him. How is that making anything better?” Foldo argued calmly.

“I needed to make sure I won, through any means necessary! You’ve never been to war. You don’t know what it’s like, what you’ll do to win, to survive. This is no different. I don’t need forgiveness or redemption. I came back for a reason. It was to clearly fulfill what I was always meant to do, heal the world, and I don’t need your permission or approval to do that,” Viridian argued.

“Please, reconsider,” Foldo pleaded softly.

“I won’t,” Viridian said, shaking his head. “I was a fool to consider this ridiculous proposal of yours. I don’t wantknow your advice or approval. You’ve been distracting me from my true goal with silly, stupid notions of love and redemption.”

“They’re not stupid, not if that’s what you really want,” Foldo said again.

Viridian scoffed. “I should have seen it from the start. Your looks are deceiving, naïve and soft-spoken, with your heart on your sleeve. I should have known what you meant to do from the start: a distraction so your friend could strike true.”

Foldo shook his head adamantly. “It’s not. I truly think there’s a better path for you.”

“Like what?” Viridian asked, challenging him.

Foldo bit his lip, knowing he only had seconds to answer. “You’re a prince. You’ve always had the power to change the world.”

“A prince with no kingdom. There’s no power for a prince with no kingdom,” Viridian corrected.

“B-but you were going to marry someone – Queen Alianor! You could have been the king of Dagonaut and changed things there. There was always a path open to what you wanted to accomplish, achieved through other means. All you had to do was take it. It’s not too late to change your approach. This isn’t the right path, surely you can see that? Darkness consumes all it touches, corrupts and changes them. This isn’t going to fix the world like you wanted. It’s just going to bring about more destruction, possibly even your own. Please reconsider,” Foldo pleaded once more.

Viridan scoffed again. “This is my destiny. There’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise. This is my path, and where our shared journey ends. Goodbye, Sir Foldo. I hope our paths don’t cross again,” Viridian told him. He raised his arm and snapped his fingers.

“W-wait! Please! Think about this!” Foldo cried out.

When he blinked he found himself sitting up his cot back in Mistrinaut. Foldo glanced around quickly, hoping his outburst hadn’t woken anyone up. The room was dark, where four of them slept, but they appeared to be asleep.

The wren Viridian had gifted Foldo had taken refuge by the open window nearby. It had been following them the whole time, but only Jussipo had really taken notice of it. It laid still by the window, appeared to be sleeping, but Foldo knew better. He gathered the small bird in his hands and held it close to his heart, stroking the feathers.

Foldo blinked back tears, feeling a sudden overwhelming rush of emotion. He had failed. Part of him was glad that he hadn’t told the others. He knew what Iona would say, would have chastised him for being so stupid to believe that kind words and the offer of friendship would change anything. A man like Viridian, she would have said, was beyond all hope. Lavinia and Jaro would have silently agreed with the sentiment while he would have received sympathetic, sad looks from Jussipo, Tiuri and Piak. It was good they hadn’t known.

Foldo curled up as much as his small cot would allow, turning so he could face Jussipo, finding him looking at him, very much awake and not sleeping like Foldo had believed.

Jussipo didn’t say anything at first, rising to his feet and joining Foldo in his small cot. Foldo was too upset to convince Jussipo he was fine. It wasn’t like Jussipo wouldn’t be able to see through that lie anyway.

Jussipo poked at his hand, prompting Foldo to reveal the dead wren he held. Jussipo took the bird in his own hand, stroking the feathers, making the bird more presentable.

“Poor Adalric. He seemed like a such nice bird,” Jussipo whispered.

“You named him?” Foldo asked.

Jussipo nodded with a sad smile. “Yes, but perhaps that wasn’t for the best. Did something happen?” Jussipo asked softly.

Foldo nodded, but found himself unable to say the words at first. It took him a moment, but he was finally able to push down the lump that had formed in his throat. “I failed, Jussipo. I couldn’t convince him to stop.”  _ I failed you _ , Foldo thought to himself, and that was the worst feeling in the world. The truth of the matter was that Foldo had always done it for Jussipo, done it with the intention to end things peacefully so they wouldn’t have to vanquish all of the darkness, so Jussipo could live. It was selfish and Viridian had seen through Foldo easily. Foldo just wished he had been convincing if only for Jussipo’s sake.

Jussipo shushed him, moving one hand up and over to stroke Foldo gently. “There. There. At least you tried. No one else did. You were the only one person who thought to speak to him like he was a person, a normal man with thoughts and feelings like the rest of us. Even Tiuri hadn’t done that. You were the only one to think he still had a heart, the only one who thought he was worth saving,” Jussipo said softly.

“He is worth saving. Everyone’s worth saving,” Foldo said in turn.

Jussipo smiled at him, soft and sweet. “Only you would say that,” he said fondly, looking at him like Foldo was the only one in the world that mattered.

“But I failed,” Foldo reminded him, unable to let the matter go so easily.

Jussipo sighed. “But you tried. That’s all you can do. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, someone who doesn’t want to be saved. You can’t save a man from drowning if he’s not willing to swim. You tried and that’s all that matters in the end. Maybe your words had some effect on him. You never know. You could have planted a seed of doubt within him,” Jussipo suggested.

The thought comforted Foldo, even if it didn’t banish the shame that came with his failure.

They both groaned when a weight settled on top of them.

“What are you whispering about? I want to know,” Piak asked sleepily.

Jussipo frowned, rolling his eyes. “Secret knight things. You’re still too young to hear about it. It’s about rescuing damsels from towers and slaying dragons and the like,” Jussipo told him.

Piak stuck out his tongue at them. “That’s not fair! I’m a knight too. I should know about the damsels and dragons,” Piak complained, looking to Foldo for answers.

“It’s nothing to concern yourself with, Piak. It’s not important,” Foldo assured him.

Before Piak could say anything, they swayed dangerously on the cot before it collapsed underneath their combined weight, sending them crashing to the cold, hard ground with a loud thump. Jussipo and Piak landed on top of Foldo, leaving him out of breath. They all laughed, the sound echoing off the walls.

Foldo glanced to the side, hoping they hadn’t awoken poor Sir Edwinem, but he appeared sound asleep still.

“Look what you did, Jussipo. You broke Foldo’s cot,” Piak hissed.

Jussipo scowled. “Me? I wasn’t the one who jumped on top of it when there were already two people on it! It was holding Foldo and I were just fine before you came along,” Jussipo argued.

“I’m tiny. I couldn’t be the one to break it. Maybe if you stopped eating so many tarts, you wouldn’t be so heavy,” Piak retorted.

“Are you calling me fat? I resent that,” Jussipo said.

“Well, I’m not calling you thin, that’s for sure!” Piak remarked.

“Well, at least I’m not scrawny like you,” Jussipo said in turn.

“Perhaps we should get off the floor and have this discussion later?” Foldo suggested gently.

“Fine,” Piak said, struggling to untangle his limbs from Foldo and Jussipo. He rose to his feet and helped Foldo and Jussipo to stand.

“You can sleep in my cot, Foldo,” Piak offered happily.

Jussipo rolled his eyes again as he dusted himself off. “He’s sharing my cot. He doesn’t want a repeat of what just happened, right, Foldo?” Jussipo said, looking up at Foldo expectantly.

Foldo looked between the brothers nervously, trying to think of the most diplomatic way to settle the matter.

“Fine,” Piak relented. “But no secrets. You both promised,” Piak reminded them, eyeing them as he went back to his cot, settling back to sleep.

Jussipo pulled Foldo along, dragging him over to his cot. It was a tight fit, but they made it work. Jussipo opened his hand, revealing the small bird again. With his free hand, Jussipo had taken a small loose scrap of cloth and wrapped it around the small bird.

“We’ll make sure he gets a proper burial tomorrow,” Jussipo promised solemnly.

Foldo nodded, comforted by the fact. He had failed, yes, but Jussipo was still here, and that gave Foldo hope that perhaps they would all make it out of this in one piece. They  _ had _ to. Foldo would make sure of it…somehow.

*

Jabroot wasn’t sure what called him to wait outside Mistrinaut. Intuition perhaps? Regardless of what it was, Jabroot knew not to question it. The world worked in mysterious ways, and this was where he felt he should be, waiting…but for what? Jabroot wasn’t sure, but he knew he would know as soon as it happened.

It took many hours until Jabroot finally saw a small party heading out of the city, away from the crowds and heading down the Great Road over the Great Mountains. Leading the group was the boy Prince Viridian had told him about, Tiuri, son of Sir Tiuri the Valiant, riding astride a large black steed. Jabroot had never encountered the young knight personally but recognized him by his features, one of the few remnants of the Eviellan shamans of old. There should have been power in his veins, like the prince had thought. Perhaps there was still for his powers to manifest, even if he wasn’t the one from the prophecy.

Next to the young knight was a young woman astride her own horse, the mage of the North, Jabroot remembered.

Jabroot rose to his feet, dusting himself off and approaching them calmly. It was the Red Rider who had noticed him first, his eye’s widening in surprise and then narrowed in suspicion and anger. He dismounted his horse immediately, drawing his blade and holding it up to Jabroot’s neck.

“Jaro! What are you doing?” Tiuri asked, dismounted and raced after the Red Rider. The young woman, the mage, dismounted as well, as did another behind her, joining Tiuri and forming a small crowd around Jabroot. The others remained back at a distance, waiting for the situation to unfold to inform their next move. If it had been any other situation, Jabroot would have grown frightened, but he knew his life was safe among these young men and women. The Red Rider, on the other hand, was a different story entirely.

“He’s one of Prince Viridian’s men, the most trusted out of all of them!” the Red Rider – Jaro told them, keeping his blade up, watching Jabroot suspiciously.

“Calm yourself, Red Rider. I come here with a peace offering. Nothing more,” Jabroot assured him, raising his arms to show he was unarmed.

“A likely story,” Jaro snarled, still eyeing him suspiciously.

“He said he has a peace offering. We should hear him out,” Tiuri argued.

“Iona’s right. You’re all too soft. This man helped Prince Viridian track down and kill shamans. He and the prince were close. He can’t be trusted,” Jaro insisted.

“You used to work for Prince Viridian as well, if I recall correctly. Is it not possible for someone like me to seek to do good, just as you have?” Jabroot reasoned.

Jaro scowled, not completely convinced. “It could be a trap,” he said to the others.

“Even so, I would like to hear him out. We all gave you and Iona a chance to speak for yourself. Shouldn’t we allow him the same courtesy?” Tiuri argued.

A young woman, not the mage, came forward and pulled on the Red Rider’s arm. “Come, Jaro. We both know we’re outnumbered by naïve fools. Let the man speak. We can always kill him if he tries anything,” the woman said, staring right at Jabroot, the threat clear.

The mage scowled. “Subtle, Iona. It’s a wonder you’ve made so many friends,” she chastised her.

The young woman – Iona – scoffed. “Say what you want about me, but you know I’m right. It never hurts to be too careful,” she reminded them.

Jaro reluctantly dropped his arm but didn’t move away. “Answer me this then. Why are you here? If I recall, you were completely devoted to the prince, obsessively so. You served him like no one else did, did everything he asked of you like some lovesick puppy. Why would you betray him? And make no mistake, talking to us means you’re betraying him. There’s no arguing your way around that,” Jaro asked.

Jabroot winced at the comparison. “I had a deep bond with the prince, a bond I could not begin to explain, unlike any other I’ve had in my life. I held strong feelings for him, not what I would call love, but I felt indebted to him all the same. He had a sway over me that I could never break free. I tried to kill him once. Did you know that? I knew we were all better off with him dead but I was unable to do so, something inside of me stopping me once more,” Jabroot told him.

The Red Rider scowled. “But you didn’t do it. You should have and saved us all the trouble. Now we’re all stuck in this mess trying to stop him before his darkness consumes us whole. Is that why you’re here? To do what you couldn’t do before?” Jaro asked.

Jabroot shook his head. “No. I’m afraid he still has a hold of me, even now, even past his own death. He still calls to me like nothing has changed. I couldn’t kill him when it mattered and I wouldn’t be able to do so now-“

“Then you’re useless,” Jaro spat bitterly.

“Jaro! Let the man speak. Stop insulting him,” Tiuri told him sternly.

Jaro scoffed, arms crossed against his chest defensively. “Let him talk. He’s useless to us. Too much of a coward to do what needed to be done,” Jaro said dismissively, anger and hate in his eyes.

Jabroot wasn’t sure what he had done to warrant such a look from the other man. Was it envy? Envy that they had both come from nothing, risen to powerful positions, but Jabroot had been the one to keep the prince’s favor in the end while Jaro had fallen out of it through his own failures. Perhaps Jabroot’s presence here reminded him of that, and a proud man like Jaro didn’t like to be reminded of his own failings, covered it up with anger to compensate for it.

“I did not come here to argue with you. I’ve done my fair share of atrocities, just like you. I wish to do my part to end the darkness I helped bring forth,” Jabroot said simply. He had been an Eviellan man serving in an Unauwen army. He received petty insults and heard every slur against his people often enough. Even Jaro’s remarks weren’t enough to faze Jabroot, not when he had yet to accomplish what he set out to do. He turned to the mage, who had said little at this point, but looked at him suspiciously, like Iona had done.

“I have a gift for you, one that may help you in your quest,” he told her, taking out a small pouch strapped to his belt. “Take it. It will not harm you, I promise. There’s little I can say or do to convince you that my words are true, but I will leave these with you. Whether you believe me or not, use them or not, I leave entirely up to you,” Jabroot said as he offered her the pouch, holding it out for her to take.

The young mage stared at it, looking back and forth between the pouch and Tiuri. It was Tiuri who took it and opened it, pulling out a small dark green stone, almost black in color with specks of red coming from the cracks. “What is it?” he asked.

“A bloodstone. It’s meant to augment natural gifts. She should wear it to strengthen her power,” Jabroot informed him.

Tiuri reached into the bag again, his fingers running the black dust particles inside. “And this?” he asked.

“Black amber. It’s meant to protect and purify, ward against negative influences. Mix it with water to create a paste, and spread it across doorways, entryways. It may be one way to trap him if it came to that,” Jabroot explained.

Tiuri and the mage’s eyes widened at his words, although Jabroot wasn’t sure why.

“Take it, if you wish. Use it, or not. I will not impose my will on you. I leave it with you to do as you will, and wish you the best of luck,” Jabroot told them, ready to be on his way. He had spent too much time here, too long in the cold mountains. He longed to be Eviellan, even if it was all smoke and ruins now.

“How do you know this will work?” The mage asked, looking up at him, the suspicion gone from her face.

“I don’t, but there is magic and power in stones. The shamans of Eviellan used them to heal and cure, cleanse and purify. Prince Viridian’s power is derived from Eviellan magic and power. It may be that the beliefs of Eviellans may hold some key to stopping him. I cannot promise you they will work, or be successful, but they may do something,” Jabroot told them.

He turned to leave, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Jabroot found Tiuri tugging on his sleeve, immediately pulling away with a shy glance. “Wait! You could come with us. If you mean what you say, come with us and fight him, stop him. If what Jaro says is true, then you know him best, better than all of us. You could tell us what to do to stop him,” Tiuri told him, a strange look in the young man’s eye.

Jabroot shook his head, smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I cannot. He has a hold on me still, and if I were there while you confront him, I would be compelled to do as he asked. It’s best if I stay away. This is the best way I can. The best way to ensure I hurt no one else, not anymore,” he admitted.

It looked like the young man had more to say but he pulled back, his arm that had been reaching out for Jabroot dropped to his side.

“Thank you for this. It helps,” Tiuri said, a small smile on his face.

“It’s the least I can do,” Jabroot told him.

This time when he turned away no one stopped him. He walked for a long time, not daring to look back until he was sure he was well out of sight and out of the path of the group behind him. Jabroot hoped it would be enough. A part of him wished he could do his part to stop the prince, but Jabroot knew himself too well. He had tried before and failed. Jabroot knew he could not try again. He could only do this much, when it came down to it. It would have to be enough.

Would he finally be free this time? Jabroot wondered. Or was he doomed to always have a part of him tied to the prince, even when he was gone, defeated? Perhaps it had been foolish to think that he could ever be truly free of the man. After all, Jabroot had spent years devoted to his service. It wouldn’t be so easy to erase all those years of memories, the devotion he once held for the man. He would have to live it, Jabroot decided, and perhaps one day he could grow past it, grow past the terrible deeds he had committed under the man’s service. Perhaps there would be one day when he would forgive himself and feel at peace with himself. Perhaps that could be the goal he worked towards: forgiveness, redemption, peace. It was an admirable goal, and one he knew would take years of his life to fulfill. Jabroot was fine with that. 

A part of Jabroot felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had done it. He had acted of his own free will, against the prince. He just hoped it would be enough. It would have to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, remember when I mentioned WAY back that I was going to things with Lavinia and Viridian’s storylines that people wouldn’t like? Well, this is what I was planning to do with Lavinia from the START of the story so it’s not a last minute addition to the story. It’s going to continue down this path so if you don’t like, now’s a good place to stop reading. 
> 
> With that said, Lavinia finally got a POV. Who knew it would take 80k for us to get there? I actually hadn’t planned on her having a POV, but I figured this is a struggle Lavinia’s going through and it would have to be told through her perspective.
> 
> We got two chapters left. Y’all want something to be in the epilogue, speak now or forever hold your peace.


	10. The Seastone Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang meet up at the Seastone Tower where the final confrontation with Viridian begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh. I'm not really happy with this chapter. It is what it is so enjoy.

With the Eviellan man gone, Lavinia turned to Tiuri. “Do you think we can trust him?” she asked, unsure how to feel about the man.

Tiuri had a strange look on his face, more pensive than Lavinia had ever seen him. “I don’t think he was lying. He meant what he told us, and I genuinely believe he was trying to help us. Whether it will work or not is another question entirely,” Tiuri told her, looking almost sad.

Lavinia placed a hand on his arm. “Tiuri? What’s the matter?”

Tiuri shrugged, a wan smile on his face. “It’s nothing. It’s not important. It can wait,” Tiuri assured her.

Lavinia glared at him, hoping her glare worked better on Tiuri than it did on her own father. Tiuri, unlike her father, looked abashed, sweltering under gaze. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Spill it,” she told him, arms crossed against her chest.

“I-I just…” Tiuri let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never met another Eviellan before, aside from my mother that is. It would have been nice to talk to him a little, learn about where I came from. My mother’s told me all she could about Eviellan, but it would have been nice to hear something new, learn more about my homeland…but it doesn’t matter. Dagonaut is my home now,” Tiuri said, the sadness still lingering in his eyes.

Lavinia frowned, looking down to her feet, unsure of what to say. She had never been at comforting others, never had to really. Her father was a jolly man, and they had always been scrambling for money before, but he never let his worry show, always had a plan or an idea to move them forward. This was entirely new for her, and normally she wouldn’t care, often caring very little what others thought of it, but this was different. This was Tiuri, and Lavinia wanted to make the effort to be a good person, someone Tiuri would be proud of.

Lavinia reached out, taking Tiuri’s hand in her own just like Tiuri had done when she was upset. Tiuri looked up at her, a puzzled look on his face as he stared at their joined hands.

“I’m sorry, Tiuri, if I had known,” she looked down at her feet, biting her lip, “I would have tried to convince him to say, for your sake anyway, even if we would have to hear Iona and the Red Rider complaining about it.”

Tiuri shook his head. “He didn’t want to come with us. I don’t blame him. It’s clear that he had a troubled history with the prince. It wouldn’t have been fair to drag him with us, not when it wasn’t what he wanted. He did what he needed to do. The rest is up to us,” Tiuri told her, smiling at her, the smile reaching his eyes letting Lavinia he meant it this time.

“You two alright? Why are we lingering for? We should be going. Dangria’s days away and we still have to meet Arman,” Iona told them, a frown on her face.

Lavinia bit her lip, thinking. If what Jabroot had given them did what he told them it would, then perhaps it was the solution they needed. Lavinia stared off past the Great Mountains. Somewhere over those mountains was Dangria, a place she’d longed to go for years now, longed for the answers it held for her, but now wasn’t the time for it, she realized with a heavy heart. There would be time for Dangria later, she promised herself. One day.

“I know I said we should go to Dangria, but perhaps that’s not necessary so far,” Lavinia said carefully, knowing the other young woman would protest.

Iona’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded, gesturing for Lavinia to continue.

“I thought learning about my powers would help give us answers to stopping Prince Viridian, but perhaps we don’t need to go that far. Learning the source of my powers might be useful but won’t really help us stop Prince Viridian, not really. If Arman’s plan works out the way, then we’ll have Prince Viridian where we want him in the flesh where I can use my powers on him. If this powder does what Jabroot said it does then, we could use it to trap him there, and that’s all we need really. We trap him. I use my powers on him and that should stop the darkness,” Lavinia told them.

Tiuri frowned, a worried look on his face. “Are you sure about this, Lavinia? If we go through with it now, we won’t have time to go anywhere else. If we arrived at the Seastone Tower, where Arman said we should join up with him in a few days, we won’t have time to go back to Dangria if you changed your mind. We’d be stuck with what we have planned now and hope for the best.”

Lavinia hesitated, feeling unsure of herself suddenly. “It was just an idea. We don’t have to do it if you think it unwise,” she said uncertainly.

Tiuri frowned, placing his hands on Lavinia’s shoulders, looking her in the eye. Lavinia tried not to avoid his gaze but found herself looking at her feet anyway. “Lavinia, we could all share our thoughts and concerns, but the truth of the matter is that these are your powers. You know them better than all of us combined. If you are sure of this, we’ll do as you say. You would know best in this matter,” Tiuri told her.

Lavinia nodded. “I know. It’s just…” she glanced at Iona nervously.

Iona rolled her eyes, but seemed to get the gist, taking a few steps, and started whispering to the Red Rider, leaving Lavinia alone with Tiuri.

“What? What is it, Lavinia? You can tell me,” Tiuri assured her.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing, Tiuri. Your guess is as good as mine at this point,” she confessed.

Tiuri frowned, brow furrowed in thought.

“My father told me to trust my instincts. I wish it were that easy. My instincts aren’t telling me anything at this moment,” Lavinia added sadly. It had always been easy for Lavinia when Tiuri thought he had powers. There wasn’t so much pressure on her then. Lavinia wished it was still like that.

“Well, you said you thought we should trust him-“

“I wouldn’t say I would go as far as to say I trust the man,” Lavinia corrected.

“But if that was your first thought, then we should trust it. That’s what instinct is really: the first thought in your head,” Tiuri told her.

Lavinia frowned, feeling like instincts were a little more than the first thoughts that appeared in one’s head but Lavinia wasn’t going to argue with him.

“You done conferring yet?” Iona asked loudly.

Tiuri sighed, nodding, waving her forward.

“Well? You get your stories straight?” Iona asked as she joined them.

“We’re going to meet up with Arman. It’s time,” Tiuri said definitively.

Iona eyed them quizzically. “You sure about this? Don’t want to ask the others?” Iona asked.

“They’ll agree,” Tiuri said confidently, “but I’ll ask them all the same.”

“Fine with me. I’ve long since given up with trying to argue with you both,” Iona said, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Really? Hasn’t stopped you from trying,” Lavinia muttered to herself. Tiuri lightly shoved her in warning. Lavinia shrugged.

Tiuri shook his head wearily before heading back to the others in the back. He returned quickly, a smile on his face. “Told the others. They seem to be alright with the plan so far.”

“That means we’re off to the Tower then. We might be there a little early,” Iona told them.

Tiuri frowned, gazing at the pouch Jabroot had given them. “Perhaps it’s good that we show up early. We’ll need time to prepare the place for the prince’s arrival,” he told them.

Tiuri had a point, and Seastone Tower wasn’t close, was it? Lavinia actually wasn’t sure where the Seastone Tower was, the place Arman told them to meet up with him. “Where is the Seastone Tower?” she asked. She’d been in Mistrinaut all her life and knew little of the world outside its walls. Unauwen and Dagonaut themselves were so far away, despite Mistrinaut settled firmly between them.

Tiuri turned a puzzled look to Iona. “I’m not sure. Do you know, Iona?” he asked her.

Iona shook her head. “I assumed you knew! You all agreed to it without protest if I recall,” she reminded them.

“Sir Edwinem will know. He’s travelled all over Dagonaut and Unauwen,” Tiuri said.

“The less Sir Edwinem knows, the better. We don’t want Prince Viridian to know where we’re going or the trap we’re setting for him. Jaro will know. Oy, Jaro,” she called out over her shoulder.

The Red Rider joined them, looking slightly annoyed. “You screeched?” he asked.

“We’re setting out to the Seastone Tower. You wouldn’t happen by chance to know where it is, do you?” Iona asked him.

Jaro’s eyes widened, a range of different emotions flashed in his eyes. That wasn’t a good sign, Lavinia noted to herself.

“Why do you want to go there?” he asked warily.

Iona scoffed. “You know of it or not? We have no time to waste with your posturing,” she scolded him.

“Know it? I know it alright. We’re not going there, are we?” Jaro asked warily. So he did know of it. That was good.

“Yes, we are, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked,” Iona said harshly. She grinned suddenly. “You’re not scared, are you?” she teased.

Jaro scoffed, arms crossed against his chest defensively. “No! It’s just that- It’s in the Wild Woods,” he said, like that explained everything.

Tiuri and Iona’s faces grew ashen, making Lavinia feel like she was missing something. “The Wild Woods? What’s in the Wild Woods?” she asked, turning to Tiuri.

Tiuri looked down at his feet. “It’s a large stretch of land, mostly forest now, formerly belonging to the realm of Dagonaut. Many years ago, centuries I think, the land was lost, became wild and overrun by dark forces. It technically still belongs to the ruler of Dagonaut, but it’s been abandoned for all intents and purposes. No one lives there anymore, rumoured to be haunted by ghosts and spirits,” he explained.

Lavinia scoffed, expecting Iona to agree with her but even Iona looked unsettled by the news. “You’re not telling me you’re all afraid of ghosts?” she asked.

“It’s not just ghosts,” Iona added. “It’s completely overrun. No maps or roads to tell you where to go or how to get through. People who wander in there become lost, and never return, never find their way out.” Lavinia had to admit that sounded …bad.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Jaro piped in. “Prince Viridian had one of his strongholds there, secretly built in an old fortress in the Wild Woods, planned to use it to scale an invasion on Unauwen if it ever came down to it. The place is likely crawling with Red Riders and whatever remnants of his army that didn’t disband entirely. We go in there, we risk being spotted by them, and trust me, they’ll attack us on sight. If they don’t find us, the Green Men will.”

“Green Men? Who are the Green Men?” Lavinia asked, feeling worse and worse by the minute. And here she thought the worst was behind them, but apparently that wasn’t true at all.

“Those are just rumors. Little invisible green men? That’s just fairy tales,” Iona said dismissively, though her voice sounded uncertain.

“They’re real, and dangerous, more so than any normal men could be,” Jaro warned them.

“But Arman told us to go there. He wouldn’t have suggested it if it was dangerous,” Tiuri told them.

“Arman’s also an idiot sometimes,” Iona reminded them.

“Perhaps not a complete one. He may have not known about Prince Viridian’s fortress or the Green Men, but he likely knew it was abandoned. Prince Viridian would have likely agreed to it, feeling safe and secure. If we plan it right, we could catch him completely by surprise,” Jaro reasoned.

“Can you get us there? Without being spotted from the Green Men, Red Riders or others?” Tiuri asked, turning to the Red Rider.

“Have you even been there?” Iona asked, eyeing Jaro skeptically, like she had expected him to have made it all up.

Jaro scowled, glaring at Iona. “Of course, I know where it is! I’ve been in the Wild Woods before. It wasn’t an amusing trip, mind you, but I’ve been all the same. If we come through the north,” he told them, taking out his sword as he drew a crude map in the dirt below them, “we should be able to avoid any of Prince Viridian’s men. If any of them are left, they’re likely to remain in the fortress in the east. We can’t avoid the Green Men. They have eyes everywhere but if we don’t bother them, they won’t bother us. We should be able to make it to the Seastone Tower without any trouble.”

They all stared at the map made out in the dirt. Lavinia herself wasn’t entirely convinced, but everything they had done so far had been made up along the way, which should be the final phase of their plan be any different.

“So be it. We’ll let you lead, Red Rider. Don’t try anything funny, mind you. I still trust you as far as I can throw you, which isn’t far to be fair,” Lavinia warned him.

The Red Rider rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement, saying nothing else on the matter.

“That still leaves the question of what to do with our former spies,” Iona told them. “We can’t just barge through the Wild Woods. Sir Fantumar’s likely been there before and will recognize it. Jussipo won’t but the scenery might give away our position. I think it’s time to consider leaving them behind at this point. They won’t be much use to us when we face Prince Viridian. If anything, Prince Viridian might use them against us. We can’t take that chance. We have to seize every opportunity we’ve got and we don’t have many. We have the element of surprise and that’s it. We take them with us and we risk that, risk having them turn against us. It’s a risk we shouldn’t take,” she argued.

Jaro looked away, muttering something to himself, taking a few steps back to let them talk.

Lavinia turned to Tiuri for answers. She knew the other woman made sense and it was a risk that wasn’t worth taking, but something in Lavinia told her it was wrong to leave them behind, even when common sense dictated otherwise.

Tiuri sighed, looking as stern as Lavinia had ever seen him. “We can’t leave them. Foldo and Piak would never agree to it,” Tiuri told her.

Iona scoffed. “So? Since when have you let Foldo and Piak tell you what to do? If you,” Iona said, pointing at Tiuri’s chest, “told them to leave them behind, they would. They listen to you. For once, just listen to me and do what makes sense. Stop listening to your heart and decide with your head, with logic this once! You know I’m right!” she exclaimed.

Lavinia almost felt bad for her, almost being the key word. She knew where she was coming even, and a part of her agreed. She opened her mouth to agree but stopped when she saw Tiuri with his clenched fists, looking angrier than Lavinia had ever seen him.

“I know that’s how you operate, Iona, but that’s not how I do things. You say listen to your mind and use logic, but look at what happened when you did that on the night of our vigil! A man begged for our help and you all thought it was a test, thought it best not to open the door, but that man died, Iona, and so did Sir Edwinem. Maybe if we’d all gone out, we could have saved them!” Tiuri cried out.

Lavinia’s face fell as she took a few steps to place a comforting hand on Tiuri’s shoulder. She knew Tiuri was still stricken with guilt over the knight’s death, how it haunted him despite everything he’d done to fulfill the man’s last wishes.

“Tiuri-“ Lavinia said, unable to finish as Tiuri carried on unheeding of anyone else at the moment.

“I listened to my heart and I did the right thing! But I was the only one who did. I’m not letting that happen again. No one dies, not again, not if I can help it,” Tiuri told her, breathing heavily.

Iona looked away, started playing with the edge of her shirt. “I know that, Tiuri, I know that. Leaving them behind doesn’t mean that we’re leaving them die,” she said softly.

“I don’t want to take that chance,” Tiuri replied gently.

Iona frowned, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. We’ll blindfold them or something. We’ll make sure they won’t be able to give anything away intentionally. Don’t say I never listen to you, but if we fail, that’s going to be on your head. I hope you can live with that, Tiuri,” Iona said solemnly, walking away to talk to the Red Rider once more.

Lavinia rubbed Tiuri’s arm gently, trying to soothe him. She wanted to tell him that they would be fine, but even Lavinia knew not to promise that. She wasn’t about to make empty promises, especially those she couldn’t keep, not to Tiuri, not when it meant so much for him. Lavinia wished, desperately, hopelessly, that she could tell him what he wanted to hear.

“We can’t let them die, Lavinia, not again, not all of them,” Tiuri said softly, sadly, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

“We’ll try. That’s the best we can do, Tiuri,” Lavinia said at last, the words sounding weak even to her own ears.

Tiuri smiled nonetheless, placing his hand on top of Lavinia’s own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know. Whatever happens, I know you have done your best. That’s all I ask of you,” Tiuri said.

Lavinia nodded, smiling back, pushing down the guilt she felt. He still didn’t know about her powers, about how they were weakening. He didn’t need to know, not yet anyway, but soon. Lavinia wished her life, for once, wasn’t filled with such unpleasant things, but that was life and there was little she could do to change it.

“Come on, let’s get moving. We should begin our dangerous journey to the Wild Woods,” Tiuri told her, leading her back to her horse.

“I’m not sure what Arman was thinking when he told us to meet him there. When we see him again, I’m giving him a piece of my mind,” Lavinia said as she pulled herself up onto the saddle.

Tiuri laughed. “I’m sure you will, but not if Iona beats you to it,” Tiuri said.

Lavinia grinned. “Well, I’m sure Arman won’t mind getting a scolding or two. It’s probably been a while in any case. Someone has to teach him a lesson,” Lavinia pointed out.

With that said, they joined the others with the Red Rider leading down to the road to the Wild Woods.

*

The Wild Woods, Lavinia realized, weren’t as dangerous, mysterious or frightening as the others made it out to be. It was unpleasant, to be sure, filled with large trees that seemed to grow on top of each other, making it hard to travel by horse. There had been no roads, and the few that remained led to dead ends or were completely overgrown by brush and thorns. Lavinia hated to admit it, but if it hadn’t been for the Red Rider, they likely wouldn’t have made it far through the woods. Although, Lavinia herself wasn’t sure how long their luck would hold.

With each passing day, the Red Rider looked worse for the wear, looking sweaty and tired, with dark bags under his eyes. Lavinia hadn’t noticed anything amiss at first, not until Tiuri pointed it out to her, but once he’d so, it was hard for Lavinia not to notice as well. He was slow to awaken, and he and Iona performed some strange ritual before heading to sleep. Lavinia would have asked, but she knew the sort of response she would have received from Iona about how obvious it was. If it was something worth worrying over, Lavinia was sure Iona and the Red Rider would say something. She had enough to worry about anyway to concern herself with imaginary problems.

Lavinia wished she could say it was Jaro’s health that was bothering her. She hadn’t believed it at first, but upon setting foot into the Wild Woods, Lavinia could see for herself why the others feared it so. The woods were dark, almost unnaturally so, always cloudy, casting a dour mood. It certainly didn’t help that it was clearly formally occupied land, now abandoned, littered with the occasional abandoned hut or ruin. It was also strangely quiet, with few birds or animals around them. A few monuments laid half buried in the land, where rumors had spread of their cursed nature. Lavinia had even spotted a river with dark water, far too dark to be any normal water. Lavinia was seriously questioning Arman’s judgment at the moment and vowed to demand to know why he’d thought it would be a good idea to venture into the terrible place.

It had taken a few days, their pace steady, slow and careful, stopping to hide once in a while when the Red Rider thought he’d heard people close by. Lavinia had strained her ears and eyes for any signs of others, but found the place to be the same as before. Despite the delays, they made it a few days early to the spot the Red Rider had declared was their destination.

A river cut across a small field, surrounded by the tall trees that made up most of the Wild Wood. Beside the river lay a half-collapsed tower, clearing abandoned, looking like it was one good push away from collapsing entirely inside the river.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Lavinia asked with a grimace, eyeing the unfortunate structure.

“Of course, it’s the place. I wouldn’t say it was if it wasn’t,” the Red Rider told them indignantly.

“How can you tell?” Tiuri asked gently.

Jaro huffed, pointing up to the tower itself. “The stones are the answer. See how they’re smooth instead of jagged and rough. It’s why it’s called the Seastone Tower to begin with, because of the stones they used to build it,” he explained, clearly exasperated like it was obvious to begin with.

“Is it just me or does he seem more irritable than usual?” Tiuri asked softly, voice quiet to avoid the man’s ire once more.

“Just ignore it. He’s always like that,” Iona answered for him.

They dismounted their horses, staring at the broken tower before them.

“We’ll have to check to see if it’s structurally sound,” Iona told them.

“I’ll go. It might be dangerous. If we’re to properly lay a trap, it wouldn’t do for the ceiling to collapse on top of us in the middle of everything,” Jaro added, taking a step forward before Iona’s pulled on his arm.

“I’ll go with Tiuri. If it does fall apart around us, we’ll need someone to dig us out,” Iona told him, looking at Tiuri expectantly before heading off.

Tiuri turned to Lavinia with a helpless look on his face. “I suppose I’ll be helping Iona,” he said with a shrug. He jogged after her as the two descended into the dark tower, making their way inside.

That left Lavinia alone with the Red Rider. For once, and possibly only time in her life, Lavinia wished Arman was there. The others had been keeping a healthy distance, keeping Jussipo and Sir Edwinem far away enough to be out of the loop, but not far enough that they would be separated. She hated every minute of it, feeling terrible at deliberately excluding the two, but it couldn’t be helped. It had been alright with Tiuri with her but now that left Lavinia alone with the Red Rider, who she still hadn’t trusted entirely.

Instead of watching the others work, the Red Rider left to take care of the horses, taking them to the trees nearby and tying their reins to a nearby tree.

Lavinia approached the man carefully, keeping an eye on the tower for anything out of the ordinary. “How do you know so much about everything?” she asked him.

The man turned, a scowl already forming on his face until he saw that she was serious, not mocking him like he had expected. “I just do. It comes with traveling. The more you see of the world, the more you learn about it. I’ve travelled here before, and to make it out of the Wild Woods, you have to be careful, know where you’re going or else you’ll find yourself lost,” he explained casually with a shrug.

“That’s useful,” Lavinia said absently.

Jaro turned to look at her carefully. “You want something. Spill it, we don’t have all day,” he said harshly, eyeing her with suspicion.

“Are you going to be alright for what’s ahead?” she asked softly, trying to take a more diplomatic approach to the conversation.

“Of course! I’m not as green as the rest of you, aside from our honorable Sir Edwinem. I can take care of my own and then some. It’s not me you have to worry about,” the man assured her, wiping the sweat off his brow with the corner of his sleeve.

“Naturally. I just wanted to be sure,” Lavinia told him.

The man waited, likely sensing she wasn’t done. “And?” he prompted.

“That’s it. There’s nothing else to it…You’re just looking unwell. Iona cares about you greatly. It would be a shame if something were to happen to you,” she added, which wasn’t entirely untrue. It would be something else Tiuri would blame himself for, despite it being beyond his control. Lavinia couldn’t let that happen.

Jaro’s face softened. “I know. I know what I have to do. I meant it before. I’ve done terrible things, and I’m not afraid to do what it takes to free myself…of this,” he gestured vaguely to himself, “it’s you we should all be worried about.”

“Me?” Lavinia asked, taken aback. When had the conversation turned about her?

“Yes, you. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but I have what it takes to do it. Do you?” he asked, turning a hard look her way.

Lavinia felt anger rise within her, clenching her hands into fists. “What about you?” she asked instead. “How do I know you won’t run away when the time comes? You’re a terrible brute with no loyalties to anyone but himself. How do I know you won’t run when it looks like we’re losing? Answer me that, Red Rider,” Lavinia demanded.

Jaro gave her a knowing look, arms crossed against his chest.

Lavinia left in a huff, wondering what possessed her to talk to the man in the first place. She stomped her way to the tower, wading through the shallow water until she made it to the other side where the tower stood.

“Is everything alright in there?” she asked, ducking her head in the opening that served as a doorway. Upon closer look, Lavinia could indeed see the stones were flat and smooth like the Red Rider told him. She huffed, chasing any thoughts of him from her mind. It wouldn’t do good to dwell on it.

The inside of the tower was dark, the interior filled with loose stones, all flat and smooth like the exterior stones.

“Good news!” Tiuri called out as he emerged from the tower, dusting himself off as he stepped outside the tower.

“What is it?” Lavinia asked, wanting all the good news she could get at the moment.

“The tower’s not completely destroyed,” Iona answered as she stepped out of the tower after Tiuri.

“But?” Jaro asked, coming up behind Lavinia, who tried not to scowl at his presence.

“The roof is half collapsed. We’ll have to fix it before Arman comes,” Iona told them.

“The floor and walls seem secure enough though,” Tiuri added cheerfully. “So it shouldn’t take long to fix what needs fixing.”

“That’s- that’s good,” Lavinia said, feeling relieved. At least this part of the plan didn’t have its own set of setbacks.

“Iona and I can stay behind and fix the roof. Send the tall one and short one over to help-“ Jaro started.

“You mean, Foldo and Piak,” Lavinia cut in curtly, feeling the anger rise within her.

“-Yes, them. Send the others to make camp, far from here. If we’re to catch Prince Viridian unawares, there must be no sign of our presence here. You two can work on whatever magic stuff you need to work on,” Jaro continued.

Lavinia huffed, crossing her arms against her chest. “And who left you in charge? Who are you to tell the rest of us what to do?” she challenged him.

They all looked at Lavinia, the surprise clear on their faces.

Jaro eyed her warily, looking to Iona for guidance.

“No! Don’t look at her. I’m talking to you, not her! Why should we listen to what you say? We’re in charge here, not you!” Lavinia exclaimed angrily. She wasn’t sure why she was so angry, where the anger had come from, but everything about the man angered her for some reason that Lavinia herself could not fathom. Tiuri would likely scold her later for her manners, but Lavinia had never been a well-mannered lady to begin with, and she never had been one to bite her tongue.

Lavinia could see the same anger in Jaro’s eyes, only to see it diminish, disappear, replaced with something like resignation. The man sat down, looking at her. “Well, then, tell us, oh great and mighty one, what we should do? The plan was to trap the prince, wasn’t it? That won’t work well if the roof and bloody tower fall down around us. But if you know so much, tell us how to fix it, then,” he said.

Lavinia could say nothing, looking down at her feet, feeling the shame rise up within her.

Jaro chuckled, the sound bitter. “That’s what I thought. So perchance can I have permission to fix the damn roof so it won’t kill us later?” he asked, tone cold and mocking, standing up again, bowing to Lavinia.

“That’s enough,” Tiuri said sternly, stepping in between them. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but we aren’t going to waste time arguing over something else…again. We’ve spent too much time fighting each other already. Jaro and Iona, you can fix the tower as you see fit. I’ll send Foldo and Piak to assist you. Lavinia and I will help make camp and do what we need to do. Is that clear?”

Iona’s face was troubled, looking back and forth between Lavinia and Jaro before nodding. Lavinia couldn’t bring herself to say anything, choosing to stare at her feet instead. Iona took a hold of Jaro’s arm and pulled him away, heading back to the tower. Tiuri did the same, taking Lavinia’ arm in his own and pulling her along, back across the shallow river and over to where Jaro had tied the horses up earlier.

“You stay here,” Tiuri said softly, trying to catch her eye, but Lavinia refused to look at him. “I’ll let the others know what they need to do, and then…we’ll figure it out, alright?” he said. He waited a moment for Lavinia to answer him, but when it was clear that Lavinia would be doing nothing of the sort, he left, true to his word to tell the others.

From where Lavinia stood, she could see Tiuri sending Foldo and Piak off in one direction while guiding Jussipo and the knight in another direction. She waited with bated breath until Tiuri returned, knowing he was going to scold her for her behavior. She wasn’t looking forward to that.

Tiuri returned, a nervous smile on his smile. Lavinia felt a little guilt at seeing that look on his face, knowing she was the one who was the cause of it.

“We should start mixing up that paste Jabroot told us about. Hopefully fixing the tower won’t take too long, and once it’s done, we’ll go about using it…somehow. I’m not sure how. Jabroot was rather vague about it. I suppose we’ll have to figure it out, like we always do,” Tiuri said amiably.

Lavinia nodded, not trusting herself to lash out at Tiuri this time around. She knew why she acted against the Red Rider, but tried not to dwell on it, not wanting the anger to return to her again.

Instead they went over to the camp Jussipo and Sir Edwinem were setting, chatting cheerfully amongst themselves. Lavinia envied them for a moment, wishing she could stay ignorant as well, but perhaps not knowing was worse.

Tiuri dug into his bag, taking out the pouch Jabroot had given them and together they walked over to a river that was mostly a trickle of a stream, really, and began the arduous process of making a paste. If Lavinia remembered correctly, it was supposed to ward off negative influences, protect and purify. Hopefully that would be enough to trap the prince long enough for Lavinia to use her powers on him…somehow.

“So, do you want to talk about what happened back there? Did Jaro say something to you?” Tiuri asked at last.

Lavinia bit her lip, wondering if there was a way to avoid this conversation entirely, but she supposed there was nothing for it. They had little time as it was, and she certainly didn’t want to spend it dwelling over the matter, not when there was so much left to do.

“I spoke to the Red Rider and asked him if he had what it took to fight Prince Viridian, if he wasn’t going to run away. He didn’t say anything. He just gave me this look that…”

“Yes?” Tiuri asked.

Lavinia avoided his gaze, turning back to mixing the dust with water, creating the paste beneath her hands. “This look like he knew I wasn’t talking about him, like he knew I was talking about myself instead,” Lavinia answered softly, afraid to look Tiuri in the eye now.

“Are you? Going to run away, I mean. You still could. You did last time,” Tiuri said softly, his voice clear of judgement.

“You’re not angry?” Lavinia asked, finally gathering the courage to look up at him.

Tiuri smiled at her instead. “No. I know you’re afraid. We all are, and it’s not entirely unreasonable for you to feel that way. Sure, you ran away last time, but when it mattered, you came. That’s more important to me than you running away ever was,” Tiuri explained.

Lavinia sighed. He made her out to be so brave, so heroic, while Lavinia had really left Tiuri alone, defenseless against a powerful figure who almost killed him. “I just – I’m scared, Tiuri,” she confessed.

“I know. I am, too-“ Tiuri told her.

Lavinia shook her head. “Not like that. You don’t understand. If I destroy the darkness, then what will happen to Jussipo? To the Black Knight? Your father? Will they die? Will you hate me when they do?” she asked softly, turning away again. “I’m not afraid of facing the prince. I’m afraid of what will happen after, and whether you can look at me the same way when it all ends.”

Tiuri frowned, brows furrowing in thought. He said nothing for a long time, until his eyes lit up. “What if you don’t have to destroy them? Destroy the darkness, I mean,” Tiuri asked.

Lavinia gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“When we went to Jussipo’s grave, it was filled with darkness and you destroyed it – the darkness, I mean. Jussipo’s lute, however, was also filled with darkness, but when you used your powers on it, it was still there, afterwards I mean. You didn’t destroy it. You-“

“Cleansed it,” Lavinia finished for him.

Tiuri nodded. “Exactly! What if you didn’t destroy the darkness? What if you cleansed it instead? Think about it. Cleansing is like cleaning, right? When you clean something, you don’t destroy it, you just remove the dirt away. What if you did that instead? Cleaned the darkness without destroying it completely. Does that make sense?“ Tiuri asked.

“For one, that is a terrible metaphor, Tiuri,” Lavinia told him.

“But?”

“But it could work,” Lavinia admitted.

“Do you know how to do something like that?” Tiuri asked.

Lavinia thought about it for a moment. Tiuri had been right. She hadn’t destroyed Jussipo’s lute, despite it being possessed by darkness. She had stopped Sir Edwinem as well, when he had been possessed and somehow had managed not to kill the man outright. Perhaps she could do the same with Prince Viridian, and somehow, that would keep the others alive. She didn’t have precise control over her powers, but if she was careful, she could accomplish it as long as…

“What?” Tiuri asked upon seeing the look on Lavinia’s face.

“I think I can do it. It’s just that…Imightbelosingmypowers,” she said in a rush.

Tiuri’s eyes widened in dismay. “What? Why do you mean? What happened?” Tiuri asked.

Lavinia shrugged. “I don’t know precisely. When I used my powers on Sir Edwinem, I noticed that my powers seemed weaker, not as overwhelming as they used to be,” she explained.

Tiuri leaned back, looking stunned by the revelation. “So that means…”

“That means we have only one chance to fix everything, or else, he’ll win,” Lavinia finished. She waited for him to say something, an angry retort from keeping this from him, or something, but he never did. “You’re not angry?” she asked.

Tiuri sighed, a sad look in his eyes, but there was no sign of anger anywhere. “Of course not. If you’re losing your powers, there’s very little I can do it about. How do you feel about it?” he asked, turning the questioning back to her.

Lavinia frowned, disliking this current trend of turning her questions back on herself. “I…” she hesitated, but when Tiuri nodded, looking earnest and open, she continued. “I might be glad of it to be honest. I never wanted powers, and I certainly don’t like all the attention it’s gotten me, all the responsibility. I was happy to just be a normal young woman with normal problems, and I’ll be happy to be normal again,” she confessed.

“You won’t miss them?” Tiuri asked carefully.

“No, I never really used them anyway. You were always the one who’s trying to do the right thing, save the world and all that. I’m happy just to be me. My powers were always squandered on someone like me anyway. Maybe they’ll go to someone who’ll actually use them for the greater good,” Lavinia reasoned.

Tiuri nodded. “If you’re sure,” he said, placing a warm hand on her shoulder, wincing when he realized it was covered in paste and he had dirtied Lavinia’s dress with it. Despite the mess, Lavinia was glad, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. She may lose her powers and it wouldn’t be the end of the world, and perhaps she could keep the others alive. That was all she wanted, all she could hope for.

“Should we tell the others?” Lavinia asked.

Tiuri thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No. It won’t help them to know anyway. It might start another argument, or worse, have the other put more pressure on you. You have enough pressure on you as it is. We certainly don’t need to add more to it,” he told her.

Lavinia smiled at him, grateful. She almost threw her arms around him until she remembered the paste and settled for just a smile. Tiuri seemed to appreciate it all the same.

“Should I apologize to Jaro?” Lavinia asked with a grimace, turning her attention back to the paste they were supposed to be making.

Tiuri followed suit, submerging his hand in the water again. “You could, but I suspect Jaro likely knew why you talked to him like that. And he’s travelled with Iona long enough to probably be used to being on the receiving end of such outbursts. But…” he said, trailing off.

Lavinia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Out of all the people she had to consort with, it had to be a knightly, chivalrous person like Tiuri. “But a good person would apologize for such rude behavior, I know,” she said. Lavinia wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

Afterwards, the two settled on another, quieter topic to discuss as they made their paste. There wasn’t enough dust to make an overwhelming amount of it, but they also didn’t know how much they would need. Jabroot had said to use it to cover doorways and entryways, but it wouldn’t hurt to use more than needed, at least Lavinia hoped it wouldn’t.

It was close to sunset when they decided to call it quits, and all returned to camp. Sir Edwinem and Jussipo had the fire going and made dinner for the rest of them. They all agreed someone should keep an eye on the tower in case Arman or someone else came by in the night while they slept and decided to take shifts. Jussipo and Sir Edwinem would be in charge of watching over the camp. 

Lavinia even managed to find a quiet moment to apologize to the Red Rider but, like Tiuri’s suggested, he seemed unfazed by her apology, going on in his usual manner like it hadn’t mattered at all. It wasn’t what Lavinia had expected, but she had done the right thing, and was on her way to becoming a better person, even if it meant her actions weren’t appreciated by everyone. Good people didn’t do good deeds for a reward, after all. 

The next day came and there was still no sign of Arman. Lavinia decided not to be discouraged by it, although she noticed the worry on Tiuri’s face. They went on their separate duties. The roof had been fixed midday, leaving them with the arduous task of coating the inside with the terrible paste Lavinia and Tiuri made. It had taken them the rest of the day to do it, but it was done. Lavinia was relieved to be done with it all, but then that left all of them with nothing to do, nothing to take their mind off what was to come.

The night passed as it had previously with someone watching over the tower in the night and another watching over the camp. Dawn came quickly, leaving them with two whole days to wait until the final confrontation. With nothing to do, they had all settled into smaller groups, Lavinia pairing off with Tiuri while Iona and Jaro took to hunting with Piak and Foldo remaining at camp with Jussipo and the knight.

Lavinia and Tiuri had taken to gathering firewood and then lounging aimlessly as they waited. They were taking a break after gathering some wood when they heard loud sounds from the forest. Tiuri and Lavinia sat up, while Tiuri’s hand went to his sword. Lavinia drew the small knife she kept in her sleeve as they went over to investigate. They had to wander through the trees and found Iona and Jaro talking to Arman.

“Arman!” Tiuri exclaimed, sheathing his sword and rushing over to greet him. Lavinia did the same, running after Tiuri. She had to admit that she had missed the other young man. It had been difficult to combat Iona and Jaro on her own. She looked forward to having Arman back on her side. Lavinia loved Tiuri but he was rather useless when it came to arguments involving logic and reason, over foolish notions of honor and chivalry. Arman seemed to have a healthy dose of both.

Arman’s eyes narrowed upon seeing them, looking unhappy to see them, arms crossed against his chest.

“What?” Tiuri asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that! I can’t believe I leave you alone for two weeks just when all your senses leave you! Letting two potential spies travel with you when they can possibly turn against you? What were you thinking?!” Arman exclaimed.

Tiuri frowned. “That’s not entirely fair, Arman. You weren’t here. You don’t know what it was like,” Tiuri explained.

“Don’t blame Tiuri. He’s just trying to do the right thing,” Lavinia defended, glaring at Iona, who apparently wasted no time in informing Arman of what he missed.

“And you!” Arman said, turning to face Lavinia. “I expected better from you. I know Tiuri’s as soft-hearted as they come, but I had hoped you would keep on the side of logic and reason. Now’s not really the time to be following our hearts. We’re fighting a powerful enemy on our own, after all, or did you all forgot that while I was gone?”

Lavinia scoffed, her earlier joy at Arman’s return diminishing rapidly with every passing second. “It’s nice to see you, too, Arman,” Lavinia greeted curtly.

Iona scoffed. “Now you see what I had to put up with. It was me against all of them. You try winning an argument with everyone dead set against you.” She eyed Arman curiously. “What were you up to all this time?” Iona asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You never did say.”

Arman coughed, deflating a little, avoiding Iona’s eyes. “Does it matter? I did what I said I would. I got Prince Viridian to come here. Did you figure out how to trap him?” he asked, turning to Tiuri and Lavinia.

“Sort of,” Tiuri said with a shrug.

Arman sighed, shoulders drooping. “Nice to see nothing’s changed. Anything else I miss?” he asked.

“I’m sure Iona’s happy to catch you up,” Lavinia said bitterly.

Arman looked back and forth between the two. “Has it been like this the entire time?” he asked no one in particular.

“Like you said,” Tiuri told him, patting Arman on the back, “nothing’s changed. You have any news to share with us?”

Arman avoided Tiuri’s gaze, fiddling with his doublet. “Well, there is one thing. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you all, but it might help against Viridian in the end,” he said, taking a few steps back. He closed his eyes, extending his hand out before him. At first, nothing happened and then the ground beneath them shook.

“Was that you?” Tiuri asked, eyes wide with surprise.

Iona’s contorted with rage, poking Arman in the chest. “I can’t believe you did this! You of all people. You went against our backs and made a deal with him, didn’t you?” she exclaimed angrily.

Arman ducked his head, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “I did, but wait until I explain!”

“Explain what? You knew – I warned you about what was going on with Jaro! About how I thought the darkness was taking over him! You knew and you still went ahead and made a deal with the prince, even after all that? I might lose Jaro. I can’t lose…” Iona sighed, looking down at her feet, eyes downcast, leaving the rest of her words unsaid, but the meaning was clear.

“Aww, you really care?” Jaro teased with a grin.

Iona looked up at him, eyes burning with fury. “Shut up! This isn’t about you!” she exclaimed.

Jaro rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll go and put these away then,” he said, gesturing a pair of fish in his hands, “Let the rest of you talk,” he finished. He walked away, leaving them alone.

Arman’s face softened. “I’m sorry, Iona. I didn’t know you felt that strongly about it. I didn’t mean to …offend you. I just thought it would help. That was how I got him to agree to come here. I told him I would give him his power back if he came here to meet me. That was the only reason I even spoke to him, I promise,” Arman told them.

Tiuri placed a hand on Arman’s shoulder. “We believe you, Arman. We’re not angry at you,” Tiuri assured him.

Lavinia scoffed. “Speak for yourself,” she said, huffing. Arman’s face fell, but he brightened when Lavinia winked at him. It was stupid to be angry now, Lavinia reasoned, after it was all said and done. Lavinia had bigger things to worry about. “I’m sure the others would understand. It’s not like Foldo or Piak haven’t let their own feelings cloud their judgment,” she added.

“Thanks,” Arman said, then he turned to Iona. “Well? You still angry with me?”

Iona shrugged, trying her best to look casual and nonchalant. “Whatever. It’s too late to take it back now anyway. Let’s just hope you don’t get consumed by darkness before the end of it all,” she told him.

“It’s nice to know you still care,” Arman said with a weak smile.

Iona, who had been avoiding his gaze all this time, looked up at him, responded with her own weak smile. “Of course, I do…I never stopped caring, no matter how much I wanted to. You’re still…my friends, at least if you’ll still let me be your friend. I know I’ve done questionable things and I can understand if you don’t forgive me for what I’ve done,” Iona said softly.

“I’ve definitely been spending too much time with Tiuri,” Arman complained, “but I’m glad to call you friend again, Iona. I’ve missed you.”

“I was always willing to give you a chance, Iona. I was just waiting for you to take it,” Tiuri said in turn.

Lavinia crossed her arms against her chest. “Well, I’m still suspicious, but if Tiuri trusts you, then I trust you,” she pronounced.

“At least one of you isn’t a fool,” Iona said with a smile that was all teeth.

Tiuri and Arman encircled Iona in an embrace Iona struggled to fight out of. “That’s enough mushy feelings for now. Let’s get you settled, Arman. We have a big day ahead of us,” Iona told them.

They made their way back to camp, the others happy to see Arman again. For a moment, the tense atmosphere was lifted, all of them forgetting for the time being of the important task that awaited them. For a moment, they were all just a group of friends camping out, sharing stories and jokes like nothing was wrong, like everything would be all right. But all good moments must come to an end, and the time came to set up for the final confrontation with the prince. They had stamped out the campfire and dismantled the camp, taking care to hide the horses further inland to prevent anyone from inadvertently finding them. There had been some debate about bringing Jussipo and Sir Edwinem with them, but Tiuri had argued that they should come with, risk and all. Everyone was too tired of arguing to really put up much of a protest.

Despite the tower being repaired, they decided to set up a barrier inside for everyone to hide in and fix up the door, which was rigged to close to ensure the prince would remain trapped inside.

“Do we all remember the plan?” Arman asked.

Iona rolled her eyes. “Yes, we went it over a dozen times already, Arman!” Iona said, exasperated at this point. There had really been nothing to do while they waited except go over the plan again and again in the vaguest details of course. They didn’t know if the prince was still listening or not. He might, hoping they would give away some important detail that could help him. Thus far, they had done a good job of keeping all the details of their plan hidden, but there was no helping with the ambush itself. They all decided they couldn’t risk leaving Jussipo and Sir Edwinem alone, where the prince could take advantage of them. That could well mean that the prince knew they were planning something at this point, but he didn’t know where, how and when. Hopefully that would be enough to give them an advance. Reviewing the plan, however, didn’t help with anyone’s nerves.

“It wouldn’t hurt to go over it…again,” Arman argued.

The plan had been for Arman to stay in the open, lure the prince inside. When the prince’s back was turned, Arman would give the signal and Lavinia would use her powers on him with Arman and the Red Rider serving as a distraction.

“And if that fails?” Arman asked.

“We’ll all jump in and attack him. He might be powerful but there’s a group of us and only one of him,” Tiuri answered.

“And if he brings others? Other Red Riders or some of his former followers?” Arman asked.

“I told you that he wouldn’t do that. He works mostly on his own. He wouldn’t bring others with him, especially with how powerful he is, especially when you asked him to not to. Prince Viridian may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. He has some semblance of honor,” Jaro retorted.

“How can a man who was willing to cut down his own father, his own brother to further his own deluded ideals have any honor at all?” Sir Edwinem argued, looking directly at the Red Rider as he spoke.

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” Jaro growled.

“Like what?” the knight said innocently.

Jaro scowled. “Don’t pretend you aren’t doing it! You’re looking at me like I’m not even fit to polish your boots, lower than dirt, like I’m some kind of criminal!” Jaro exclaimed angrily.

“Well, you are a criminal,” Sir Edwinem pointed out casually.

Jaro rose to his feet, hands clenched into fists, his eyes filled with fury. “How about you say that to my face, why don’t you? You think you’re so high and mighty just because of that shield you carry on your arm, one of King Favian’s finest knights. Where was your honor the night you died? It didn’t save you then, did it? What good is honor if it doesn’t save you when it matters?” Jaro retorted.

Sir Edwinem shook his head, fixing the Red Rider with a pitiful look. “A common criminal like yourself wouldn’t understand honor even if it hit squarely in the face,” he said in turn.

“How about we table that discussion for later?” Tiuri said loudly.

Jaro rolled his eyes, retreating to his designated corner while the knight returned to his. They had separated them earlier as the two were prone to arguing when left to their own devices.

“Despite all he’s done, Prince Viridian still has some good in him. He’s still a mortal man, after all. He’s still worth saving,” Foldo said softly. They all turned to look at Foldo in surprise. He had been quiet thus far, and no one had expected him to say something like that.

Jaro scoffed. “Have you met the man? He has an indomitable will. He’s so convinced of his destiny that death couldn’t stop him once. Death is the only thing that will stop him once and for all,” he argued.

“Just- if there’s a chance, even the smallest chance that we can stop him without killing him, will you consider it?” Foldo asked, looking to Lavinia.

Lavinia bit her lip. “I’m not sure I can promise that, Foldo,” she confessed.

“Of course, I understand,” Foldo said softly, looking down at his boots.

“But, if it’s possible,” she said, reaching out to him, “I’ll try.”

Foldo looked up at her, gracing her with a kind smile. Lavinia smiled back, hoping it would reassure the man. He was a puzzle to her, similar to Tiuri in demeanor and temperament, but somehow, almost impossibly softer. Even Tiuri wasn’t as soft-hearted as the man sitting before her. Lavinia hoped she wouldn’t be the one to break his spirit when…if….best not think about that, Lavinia decided.

After a long silence, Jussipo spoke up suddenly. “Should we say our goodbyes…in case the worst happens?” Jussipo asked softly.

“No,” they all said at once, in agreement on this matter alone.

“Well, fine,” Jussipo huffed, crossing his arms against his chest, “forgive me for trying to be considerate for once.”

Foldo placed a hand on Jussipo’s shoulder. “We know. It’ll be alright. We’ll be fine,” Foldo assured him.

Jussipo graced him with a warm smile, earning a groan from Iona and Arman.

“How about we don’t say anything unless it’s absolutely necessary?” Iona suggested, looking disgustedly at Jussipo and Foldo.

“I second that,” Arman said quickly.

“I don’t know. It’s sort of sweet, isn’t it? In a sickening sort of way?” Piak noted.

“I actually agree with Iona and Arman for once if you’re all going to start talking like Foldo and I aren’t just sitting here with you all, fully capable of hearing every word you say!” Jussipo explained.

They descended into silence, the atmosphere tense once more.

Lavinia didn’t know how long it was, whether minutes or hours had passed, but there was just the faintest noise, coming from outside. They all tensed at the sound of it. Lavinia took her position at the edge of the barrier, waiting.

Footsteps walked up the stone path leading to the tower, and Lavinia could hear the wood beneath them creaking as someone entered the tower.

“You came,” Arman said, the surprise clear in his voice.

More footsteps, like the prince was making his way toward the center of the room. “You sound surprised. Were you expecting any different?” a familiar voice asked. Lavinia tensed as she recognized it. Prince Viridian.

“No! No, I just…to be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect,” Arman said, sounding nervous to Lavinia’s ears, which was the last thing they all needed.

“Your mission went well I assume? Unless you’re here to ask for more time,” the prince said, pacing as he spoke – circling Arman like a lion with his prey. Mission? Lavinia wondered what the prince meant by that. Arman had told them he had made a deal with the prince, but failed to specify what exactly that entailed for both of them. 

“No, I got what I needed. I don’t need anything else from you,” Arman told him.

“Of course, you’ll go back to your little friends like nothing happened, is that it?” the prince asked.

“Yes. This was only a temporary truce. I always intended to go back and join them,” Arman explained.

“Are we forgetting something?” the prince asked, voice soft.

There was a long pause, which Lavinia took to mean that Arman had indeed forgotten something.

“Oh! Right. Of course. I didn’t forget,” Arman said quickly. Lavinia rolled her eyes. Very convincing, Arman, she thought to herself.

“Of course, you didn’t,” the prince said, his tone suggesting that he hadn’t believed him either.

“Well, I wouldn’t go back on my word. I have what I promised you. I’m ready,” he said and then the earth shook beneath them.

Lavinia bristled. That was it. That was the signal. She looked to the other side of the barricade, where Jaro had jumped out, flames leaping from his hands, emerging from nowhere. Iona had told them that the prince had ‘gifted’ Jaro with a power to stop them, but had failed to mention that this gift was fire!

The prince stumbled, falling to his knees, while Jaro’s flames engulfed them.

Lavinia tried not to grow distracted, not waiting to see whether the flames had hurt the prince. She jumped out, hands extended in front of her, using her powers on the shape before her, her face turned away from the heat of the flames. She could still feel him, his life force so he was still alive, but she had no way of knowing if her powers had any affect on them.

Jaro extinguished his flames, sending a plume of smoke around the room, leaving them all coughing.

When the smoke cleared, the prince was there, a shield of darkness protecting him from the flames. From the smell of it, and the look at his singed clothes confirmed that he was hit by the fire, but not by much. He was calm, alive, and that didn’t bode well for them.

Prince Viridian rose to his feet, eyeing them all calmly. “So this is what you’ve all been up to? Well, you’re going to have to try harder than that to stop me. You’re forgetting I have a few tricks left up my sleeve,” he told them. His eyes became dark, black as night, as he reached out with his hand.

Lavinia didn’t wait to see what he was planning. “Don’t stop! Keep going!” she cried out, reaching out again and using her powers.

Arman hesitated, but Jaro did no such thing, extending out his hand again, the flames coming alive once more. Lavinia didn’t stop to wait to see what the prince had done, not even when she could hear cries and yells from behind her. Lavinia couldn’t stop, not now, not when there was so much and so many depending on her.

*

Foldo knew he should have expected it, but he was still surprised by it all the same. The terrible fear that he had tried to keep at bay, emerged suddenly as his worst fears came through. Jussipo’s eyes grew dark, and Foldo knew what that meant. It meant Jussipo was lost to him, possibly forever, and there was little Foldo could do about it.

“Don’t just stand there! We have to do something!” Iona cried out, as she pulled Foldo up to his feet.

“Maybe it’s not what we think. Maybe there’s still in there, listening somehow,” Foldo said desperately. He would wait if he had to. Iona had a different idea in mind, already drawing her sword, her back to Foldo. She dragged Tiuri by her side, who was eyeing the knight warily.

At first it didn’t seem like Jussipo would really do anything, like it was still him in there despite the dark glow of his eyes.

“Jussipo?” Foldo asked carefully. Piak moved to reach out to him, but Foldo pushed him, not willing to risk Piak’s safety when they didn’t know if it was safe yet, even if Foldo believed Jussipo would never hurt him, never hurt them. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Foldo firmly believed that.

Then he drew his sword, walking straight for them.

“Damn it!” Iona cried. “Tiuri and I will handle the knight. You and Piak try to hold Jussipo off. Can you do that at least?” Iona asked.

Foldo nodded numbly and would have agreed to anything at this point. His thoughts were on one person and that one person only.

“Remember not to hurt them! There’s still a chance no one has to die,” Tiuri told them, looking at Iona specifically.

The two dashed off to the other side of the room to engage the knight, leaving Foldo and Piak to deal with Jussipo, who looked ready to slash them both with his sword.

“Let me talk to him first,” Foldo said.

Piak looked up at Foldo, looking ready to argue when he finally just nodded, letting Foldo to step forward.

“Jussipo, are you in there? If you are, please say something. Anything,” Foldo said softly.

Jussipo fixed Foldo with a cold glare. “You and I both know he’s not here, not anymore. I hoped you said your farewells. You won’t be seeing him again,” a voice said, not Jussipo’s voice, but not the prince’s either.

“I refuse to believe that,” Foldo said adamantly. “He’s still in there, somewhere. He’s not gone. He can’t be.”

Jusspo grinned at him, cruel and mocking, something Foldo had never seen on his face before. Jussipo was never cruel, and while he liked to tease, he certainly wouldn’t mock anyone. “But he’s gone. He’s always been gone. He’s been dead this whole time. You just refused to believe it,” the voice said.

Foldo shook his head. “No, he’s not. He’s still there. Jussipo, please, try to fight it. I know you’re in there. If you’re in the darkness again, just listen to the sound of my life, try to follow it out. I know you can do it,” Foldo told him.

Jussipo shook his head. “He’s not in there and he’s not listening. He won’t come no matter how many times you call for him,” the voice insisted.

“He will. I know he will,” Foldo told him. He tried to spot Piak from the corner of his eye, but found him gone, snuck away while Foldo was talking. Foldo hoped he wasn’t going to do anything foolish. Foldo wouldn’t be there to help him, or save him, but Piak was a knight, after all. He was more than capable of taking care of himself.

“How can you be so sure of that?” the voice asked with the same mocking tone.

Foldo looked at Jussipo in the eye. “Because I know him. I know him like no one else does. I love him and he loves me, and there’s nothing we won’t do to save each other,” he answered confidently.

Jussipo’s face softened, the scorn and hate fading from his face, replaced by fear and worry. His eyes though, his eyes remained dark, but perhaps that meant he was fighting it somehow. “Foldo?” he asked, sounding more like himself.

“Jussipo! I knew you’d come back. I just knew it,” Foldo cried, rushing over to the other man, wrapping his arms around.

“I know. You always had faith in me. I’m not sure what I did to deserve it,” Jussipo said softly.

“Everything. Just the fact that you exist warrants all the love in the world,” Foldo told him.

Jussipo chuckled. “I’m not sure what to say to that,” he said softly.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Foldo said in turn, closing his eyes, leaning in to press his forehead against Jussipo’s.

For a moment, all was right in the world. Jussipo was alive and safe, and broken free of his possession. Nothing could go wrong now.

Then Jussipo cried out. Foldo looked down, finding Jussipo still had a firm grip on his sword and was now struggling with Piak for control of it.

Foldo pulled away from the embrace. “Piak, no! Stop!”

“Well, one of us had to be realist, and if it wasn’t going to be you, it would have to be me,” Piak argued, kicking Jussipo in the shin to loosen the man’s grip on the sword – the sword he was trying to use on Foldo just mere seconds ago.

“Stop it! You’re hurting him!” Foldo exclaimed, reaching over and turning the situation into a three-way struggle for one sword.

Piak chuckled. “Please! I’ve done worse when I was smaller. Just try to get the sword free. If he doesn’t have any weapons, he can’t hurt anyone!” Piak reasoned.

Foldo had to admit that he had a good point there and tried to pry Jussipo’s fingers free of the sword.

Sensing he was fighting a losing battle, Jussipo elbowed Piak in the stomach, throwing him back. The action was enough to loosen Jussipo’s grip on the sword, allowing Foldo to finally snatch it back. Foldo, however, had forgotten about his own sword, which Jussipo pulled from its scabbard, leaving them both with a sword each, albeit a different sword than they had started this struggle with.

“I’m not going to fight you,” Foldo declared solemnly, tossing the sword in his hand across the room, far away where Jussipo wouldn’t be able to reach for it easily.

Jussipo smiled, cruel and sinister once more. “Your choice, and a foolish one at that. It won’t stop me from killing you,” the voice said to him. He drew forward, slashing at Foldo with each step.

For a second, Foldo thought the presence masquerading as Jussipo wouldn’t fight as well as Jussipo did, wouldn’t have his skills, his knowledge at how to handle a sword, but he was quickly mistaken as Jussipo dashed forward, almost stabbing Foldo in the arm with a quick jab forward. Jussipo had always been quick with a sword, his talents lying in his fast movements, quick feet. Foldo himself wasn’t too bad with a sword either, but whereas Jussipo’s talents lay in how quick he was, Foldo’s talents laid in how strong he was, taking an opposite approach to how Jussipo fought. Jussipo would jump in, swiping fast slashes and then dashing out of reach to tire his enemies. Foldo would use his height to his  advantageadvance , using his wide reach to deliver long slashes, and sometimes relied on his strength to knock his opponent’s sword out of his hand. That wasn’t an approach Foldo could take here, though, as he had tossed his own sword aside in taking a stand in refusing to fight Jussipo, no matter who was in control of his body. Perhaps that was foolish, in hindsight, but Foldo firmly believed in what he said, in the stance he took, and he would stand by it, even if it meant getting hurt, or worse. Foldo refused to hurt Jussipo no matter the circumstances.

“I won’t give up on you,” Foldo said to himself mostly, filled with a steely determination.

Jussipo was as fast as Foldo remembered him, slashing at him again, this time, cutting through the sleeve of his arm. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it stung, stung because Jussipo had been the one to do it. Perhaps Foldo had been foolish to believe that his silly words and declarations would change anything. Perhaps he would die for it, but that would be alright, because if he died, then maybe he and Jussipo would be together, not in life, but in death. Foldo could live that.

Foldo, however, wasn’t going to give up so easily, trying to dodge and anticipate Jussipo’s attacks. Jussipo may have had speed over Foldo, but Foldo knew Jussipo, knew he attacked, knew his maneuvers and so made it easier for Foldo to anticipate his attacks, easier than it would be for the presence using Jussipo’s memories against him.

“Come on, Jussipo. Come back to me. Come back to me, please,” Foldo urged him, hoping against hope that Jussipo was still in there, still fighting for control, fighting to get back to Foldo and everyone who loved him.

For a moment, Foldo thought that he might be able to tire Jussipo out, after all, Jussipo was the one taking the offensive approach, attacking rapidly and wildly while Foldo just had to move out of his way, even if it costs him a few cuts. But then Foldo felt something at his back, his heart dropping to his stomach. He had let himself be cornered, walls on either side of him, Jussipo blocking his way out. There would be no way to dodge his attack this time.

“Whatever happens, Jussipo, I forgive you. Don’t blame yourself for this. I love you, and I always will,” Foldo said softly, closing his eyes while he waited for the blow to come, but it never did.

A loud clang rang out as Jussipo’s sword fell to the floor. Foldo opened his eyes to find Jussipo’s eyes, brown and clear, filled with unshed tears, fallen to his knees. Foldo rushed over to pull the man into his arms. Foldo didn’t have to ask this time. This time, he knew. It was Jussipo. It was  _ his _ Jussipo.

“How can you still look at me like that?” Jussipo said, voice soft and filled with sadness.

“Because it’s you, and I’ll always love you,” Foldo said simply.

Jussipo let out a wet laugh. “Even when I’m terrible and something possesses me and tries to kill you?” Jussipo asked, half in jest, half seriously.

“Especially then,” Foldo teased. “It wasn’t you,” Foldo added more seriously. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Never.”

“At least one of us was sure of that. I-“ Jussipo looked down, avoiding Foldo’s gaze. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to find my way, or fight it. How were you so sure?”

“Because it’s you,” Foldo said simply as if that explained everything and it did.

“You have to leave. I can’t hold it off for long,” Jussipo warned him, pulling away, pushing at Foldo’s chest, but Foldo stubbornly held on. 

“Never. I’ll be here to see this through until the end. If it takes you over again, we’ll face it together,” Foldo told him.

Jussipo looked up at him, eyes shining with emotion. “You’re so stubborn! What did I ever do to deserve you?” Jussipo asked softly, so soft Foldo had to strain to hear him.

“You’re stubborn, too,” Foldo reminded him. “I suppose we deserve each other.”

Whatever Jussipo said next was drowned out by a loud cry, drawing Foldo’s attention away from Jussipo for a moment. At the center of the room, the Prince and Lavinia stood, each surrounded by darkness and light respectively. Jaro and Arman had been thrown back against the wall, struggling to rise to their feet, clearly exhausted. On the other side of the room, Iona and Tiuri took on the knight, tiring as the knight carried on, his blows coming as fast and swift as ever. For a moment, Foldo thought they might loset, but then a bright light, emanating from Lavinia grew brighter and stronger.

Foldo turned his attention back to Jussipo, who collapsed, crumbling to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, looking pale, as pale as he had when he died, eyes closed, possibly forever this time.

Foldo didn’t have time to cry out as they were engulfed, not by darkness, but by a pure, shining light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with whose POV this was going to be from. It really came down to Lavinia and Foldo because they’re the ones who have the most at stake here (Lavinia with her responsibilities and Foldo with the loss of Jussipo). In the end, I decided to end this chapter with Foldo’s POV just because I think seeing Jussipo’s possession wasn’t going to be as impactful if shown through Lavinia’s eyes. I hope that makes a satisfying chapter overall. I know it’s not the best, but it’s what came out. Hopefully the end product is somewhat enjoyable to read. (There’s no POV with Tiuri + Iona vs. Sir Edwinem because I figured that was something no one was invested in and opted to leave it out altogether.)
> 
> I honestly don’t know when the next (and last) chapter will be up. There was a reason I was going to try ending this story in May because June is going to be crunch time for me. I may have some time this week to work on it depending on when my supervisor gets back to me (and other boring rl stuff), but I wanted to warn people in advance that it may be a few days or weeks before the final chapter gets written. I’ll try to get it out as soon as possible but I can’t promise anything with how busy I’ll be getting.   
> Thank you for those of you who are still following this story and commenting. It means the world to me.


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